


The Prize for Rotten Judgement

by thraenthraen



Series: The Place Where I'll Always Remain [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astoria Greengrass Lives, Bilingual Character(s), Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Bisexuality, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Gay Ron Weasley, Gen, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Implied Sexual Content, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Mental Health Issues, Muggle London, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Ginny Weasley, Queer History, Queer Themes, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Welsh Character, Welsh Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 101,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thraenthraen/pseuds/thraenthraen
Summary: Ginny had danced with Astoria before, but it was nothing like dancing with Astoria now. They were in a world all their own, all smiles and sparkling eyes, floating somewhere far above the rest of the world. Ginny would never understand how she had missed this before, how she had been so oblivious to the way Astoria made her insides flutter and her knees feel like jelly.Astoria was just so good, and maybe that’s what had held Ginny back, too afraid to want someone so beyond comprehension. But somehow, Astoria wanted her too, and the thought kept making all the air leave Ginny’s lungs.---Unapologetically queer, post-war coming-of-age story about queer identity, activism, etc. with a slow-burn Astoria/Ginny romance at its centre. All main protagonists are queer and/or trans. There's queer history, good Slytherins, and close, inter-house friendships.New chapters read live on Twitch every Monday starting at 12noon Pacific (19:00 UTC) on Twitch (twitch.tv/thraenthraen) and then posted here shortly after final edits. (Warning: some spoilers are bound to happen there!)
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Ginny Weasley, Astoria Greengrass/Original Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Place Where I'll Always Remain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034307
Comments: 97
Kudos: 69





	1. I’m broke, but I’m happy

**Author's Note:**

> More detailed age rating info: This fic has strong language (swearing), frank discussion of sexuality (no smut, but characters talk about it, including references to specific sex acts), mention of past sexual abuse, depictions of other kinds of abuse, and (not particularly graphic) depictions of violence (including hate-fuelled violence). Potentially triggering chapters will come with a content warning at the start of the chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor Captain Ginny Wealsey leads her team in their final, Cup-deciding match against Slytherin, captained by Astoria Greengrass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to explain the chapter titles for you, but where's the fun in that?

> Saturday, 22 May 1999. Hogwarts. Late morning.

“Okay, team,” Ginny said to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, huddled in the changing rooms. Pre-game speeches were her least favourite part of being Captain, but she’d manage her way through this final one somehow. “We’re up forty points over Slytherin. All we need to do today is win, and the Cup is ours. We’re the better team by a long shot, but it’s going to be a fight. They’ve got two star players who have carried them this far, but we’ve got a star _team_. 

“Dennis—use the defensive tactics we’ve been working on. Make sure Harrison can’t get that snitch before we’re at least 120 points ahead. Fake him out, keep him distracted, whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t end the game before we can rack up that lead. If you can get the snitch, even better, but all I’m asking you for is _time_. Just buy us time.

“Demetrius, Alexis, Bran—we need to be fast. Dennis won’t be able to hold Harrison off forever. Alexis, don’t let anything past you. The three of us can get us that lead if you just keep feeding us the quaffle. Their keeper is rubbish, so if you can get to the posts, just shoot. Greengrass knows it too. She’ll probably be all over us to make sure we can’t get enough of a lead to risk losing the snitch. Her bludgers come fast, and they hit hard, so watch out.

“Mindy, Eric—Greengrass is good. We need you to be better. Don’t let her dominate the bludgers. If you have to, hit them out of the pitch and send her chasing after them. We’re not going to be able to win this if Greengrass can just juggle bludgers all match and shut down our attacks. Anything you can do to keep her busy and far from the rest of the team will help us win that Cup.

“We can win this. They have two good players. We have seven. Play hard, work together, and get that lead before Harrison can get the snitch. Let’s get out there and win the Cup. Gryffindor on three. One, two, three—”

“GRYFFINDOR!” The team roared together, and then they walked out onto the pitch to face their centuries’ old rival: Slytherin. Ginny’s eyes met the Slytherin Captain’s, and she squared her jaw. 

“Captains, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said. Ginny took a step forward and reached out her hand to shake Astoria Greengrass’ hand. Astoria pulled hard, dragging Ginny closer. 

“Look who’s here, sitting with McGonagall,” Astoria hissed into Ginny’s ear. She released Ginny’s hand and stepped back. Madam Hooch whistled for them to mount their brooms, and then they were off, racing around the pitch. 

Gryffindor took the lead right away. Ginny scored, then Demetrius, then Demetrius again. Ginny chanced a glance at the stands with each reset, and her eyes finally found McGonagall. Her heart leapt. Was that _Gwenog Jones_?

But Ginny didn’t have time to think—they had a Cup to win. If she didn’t know better, she would have wondered if Astoria had gotten Jones to come just to distract Ginny. Of course, Astoria was clearly distracted too—she’d barely sent a single bludger racing after the Gryffindor chasers so far.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Greengrass!” Ginny shouted as she flew by Astoria. 

“Would you rather I bloody you up a bit for Jones?” Astoria shouted back. “It’ll match your robes!”

Ginny laughed and sped off after the Quaffle. Slytherin took a shot, but Alexis easily saved it. Their small lead was quickly growing. They were up by fifty now, and Bran stole the quaffle back. He pressed on, passed to Ginny, and she burst ahead. The crowd gasped. Ginny ignored them, firing a quick shot into the far hoop. Sixty points now. Ginny chanced a second to follow the crowd’s gaze and saw a small, red-clad figure bent over on the ground far below. Eric. Ginny swore and waved for a timeout.

“Can you still play?” Ginny asked when she landed with the rest of the team. She knelt down in front of him. He was clutching his side, doubled over in pain.

“Think I—” Eric groaned painfully. “—rib.”

“Sometimes I also rib,” Mindy teased. 

“Shuddup.” Eric lifted his head up and looked at Ginny. “Yeah,” he said weakly. He grabbed his broom and stood up. The Gryffindor section erupted in cheers.

“Are you sure?” Ginny asked. The team needed him—Astoria would have the whole team out performing ballet or else sporting broken ribs of their own if Eric and Mindy couldn’t keep her busy—but, well, that _definitely_ seemed like a broken rib or two. 

“Survived war,” Eric grunted, as if that settled it. Then he mounted his broom and kicked off.

“Mindy, try not to get beat too,” Ginny said. Then she and the rest of the team kicked back off, ready to resume play. 

Scoring was harder now. Astoria still wasn’t showering Ginny and the other Gryffindor chasers with bludgers, but the Slytherin chasers seemed to have found the courage to actually try to tackle the ball away, perhaps reassured that Gryffindor only had one uninjured beater. The Slytherins even managed a goal or two, but it was 120-40 now, just four more goals to go. Four more goals, and all they’d need to do was play keep away with the quaffle. Four more goals, and—

 _Crack!_ Ginny rolled before she even saw the bludger, but it wasn’t headed toward her. Ginny spotted the bludger just as it made a sickening _thwack_ and collided with the tail of Dennis’ broom far above her, sending him spiralling out of control. For a moment, Dennis held on, but then his grip slipped—the broom was spinning too fast—and he was flung off it. The crowd gasped. A green blur raced past Ginny toward him. Ginny hesitated—Slytherin’s keeper was too busy watching Dennis fall to realise Gryffindor still had the quaffle—and then sped forward. 

_Crack!_ This time the bludger had been aimed straight at her. She dodged—barely—but one of Slytherin’s chasers seized the opportunity to steal the quaffle. Another gasp from the crowd. Ginny stole a quick glance to where the crowd was looking: Dennis was hanging by his robes, gripped firmly by Astoria, who had somehow also managed to catch his broom. Show off. Ginny sighed and sped off toward them.

“I thought you were going to bloody _me_ ,” Ginny said to Astoria. She took Dennis’ broom from her and helped get Dennis back on it.

“I was just saving the best for last.” Astoria grinned and sped off.

“Merlin, we’ll never hear the end of it if we lose,” Ginny said. “Please get the Snitch, Dennis, and do try to avoid her bludgers.”

If Eric’s injury had rallied the Slytherins, it was nothing to what Dennis’ fall had done. The Slytherin chasers were finally tackling, making plays, passing the quaffle, charging down Gryffindors. Worse than their chasers though was Astoria, who seemed to finally be attempting to make good on her promise to bloody Ginny and the other chasers up. Ginny had had plenty of practice dodging Astoria’s bludgers, so she’d managed to avoid any serious hits, but Demetrius and Bran were collecting injuries fast. 

“You’re a great ballerina, Weasley!” Astoria shouted, after Ginny swerved to avoid yet another one of her bludgers. “You should consider a career!” And then it clicked. Astoria wasn’t _trying_ to hit Ginny. All Slytherin needed to do was keep the Gryffindor chasers dancing long enough for Harrison to get the snitch. 

Ginny set her jaw. No more dodging. She wasn’t losing the Cup that easily. Alexis blocked Slytherin’s attempt, and the Gryffindor chasers pressed on. Bran, then Demetrius, then Bran, Ginny was open. Bran passed to her. _Crack!_ Ginny caught the quaffle and held on as tight as she could before the Bludger hit, square on her knee. She bit down hard on her lip, ignored the pain, and fired off the shot. Slytherin’s keeper hadn’t been expecting it and dove far too late. 130-50. They just needed three goals. 

The good news was, inspired as they were by Astoria’s beating, the Slytherin chasers were still no match for Alexis. Unlike the rest of the team, their keeper was fine—bludging the keeper was a foul in quidditch, and Astoria’s team didn’t play like that (much to the disappointment of many Slytherins, who considered excessive fouling a time-honoured tradition of their house). 

Demetrius and Bran took Ginny’s lead and stopped dodging bludgers too. They’d have to win on sheer force of will instead. Ginny scored. 140-50. Bran scored. 150-50. The Gryffindors were bloodied and beaten and still racking up more injuries, but there was only one more goal to go. 

Suddenly, the crowd roared. Harrison was in a dive, Dennis racing off after him. “Go!” Ginny shouted to her teammates. They pressed forward, nearly fumbling each pass with their now almost useless arms. Ginny was almost to the hoops. Demetrius passed. She lifted her fist—she’d punch it in rather than waste time catching and throwing—and smashed it right into the wrong ball. That wrong ball—a bludger, Astoria’s no doubt—didn’t care about her measly punch and continued straight into her shoulder, where it had originally been headed. The crowd erupted into screams, and the whistle blew. Ginny looked down as the pain erupted in her shoulder—Harrison was holding up the Snitch. The game was over. Slytherin won. 


	2. You're in harms way, I'm right behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After narrowly losing the Cup to Slytherin, Ginny and the rest of the beaten and bloodied Gryffindor team are attended to in the Hospital Wing.

> The Hospital Wing.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Astoria practically shouted. She pushed a glass of pink, sparkling liquid to Ginny’s lips and forced her head back. Ginny drank the potion quickly. 

“Miss Greengrass!” Madam Pomfrey said sharply. “This is a hospital wing!” She was flitting about between the other injured players. Astoria ignored her, gently lifted Ginny’s shattered hand, and pointed her wand. 

“You _punched a bludger_!” Ginny couldn’t tell if Astoria was more angry or impressed. 

“I was aiming for the quaffle,” Ginny said, and a tingling sensation spread through her hand. 

“I noticed.” Astoria grinned. “Didn’t think I’d actually let you win, did you?” Astoria moved to Ginny’s shoulder.

“Didn’t think we’d stop dodging, did you?”

“Bet Jones loved that.” Her shoulder tingled, and then the pain subsided.

“Bet Jones loved seeing you take out the entire Gryffindor team.”

Astoria laughed. “Pretty sure they were here for you.” She knelt down in front of Ginny and placed a hand on her calf, just below Ginny’s badly beaten knee. Astoria’s hand felt soft and warm on her skin, so unlike her bludgers.

“Is that why you were showing off? Knocking Dennis off his broom, and then catching him—” Ginny’s breath caught for a moment as her kneecap went back into place, “—like some storybook hero come to save the day?” 

“Saved the damsel in distress _and_ still won. Tiebreaker for the Cup goes by win-loss, so Slytherin’s got the Cup too.” Astoria stood up and grinned triumphantly.

“I told Dennis we’d never hear the end of this.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t.” Astoria looked Ginny up and down. “Merlin, how many bludgers did you take?”

“Not enough, apparently.” Astoria raised an eyebrow. “I mean because you won,” Ginny said quickly, as her face turned pink. 

“No, you’re right,” Astoria said. She resumed fussing over all of Ginny’s bruises and fractures. Ginny normally wouldn’t have put up with so much fuss, but Astoria wanted to be a Healer. “Next time, dodge less. I like healing you.” Her eyes flickered over to Dennis, who was chatting animatedly with Bran while Madam Pomfrey healed the chaser’s injuries. Dennis always fought Astoria on taking his potions. They had become something like siblings over the past year, and Dennis seemed determined to live up to the annoying little brother stereotype.

“I could fight you about taking my potions if you’d like,” Ginny teased. 

“If you really want me to wrestle you and hold you down, all you have to do is ask.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Finish healing me first then so it’s a fair match. I know you Slytherins like to use dirty tricks to win.” 

Astoria laughed. “This would go a lot faster if you had just kept dodging like you were supposed to.” 

“Just think, if you hadn’t knocked Dennis off his broom, he could have caught the Snitch and I’d be injury-free.”

“True, but I thought we established that you thought I was a cool storybook hero for it.”

“So you were just trying to impress me then?”

“Yes, of course, always. Now take your clothes off.” 

Ginny’s face went hot. “What?” Her voice had gone up at least a full octave. 

“Just your shirt, but you can have Madam Pomfrey check your ribs if you’d rather.” Astoria smirked. “I know the three thousand fifty-eighth time being shirtless in front of me would be pretty scandalous.”

“Oh, shut up and close the curtains.” Astoria flicked her wand, and the privacy curtains closed around them. Ginny took her shirt off and glared at Astoria, who was far too delighted to have caught Ginny off-guard. Astoria ignored her death glares and bent closer to look at her ribs. 

“Just a bit of bruising, I think.” Astoria tapped her wand, and Ginny felt the healing magic spread through her side. “Anything else hurt?” She looked seriously at Ginny, eyes scanning her body for more injuries. 

“Yeah, we lost. Think you could mend that too? Maybe instead of destroying my arm, you could just go back and let me score that Cup-winning goal just in time for Harrison to catch the snitch?”

“We can’t have _two_ storybook heroes, Gin. I’m the hero already. You need to pick a different archetype.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think I’m just the damsel in distress because you’re healing me?”

“Of course not. That’s Dennis. I heroically saved him after he decided to go full Gryffindor and just let go of his broom seventy feet off the ground for no reason.”

“You and Dennis, huh?” Ginny smirked. 

“The hero does not need to have a _thing_ for the damsel in distress. The hero does not need to have a _thing_ for anyone. I’m just going to hop on a dragon and ride off into the sunset or something cool like that. Happily ever after.”

“What if I want to ride a dragon too?”

“Fine, you can come too. Don’t forget sunglasses. Riding off into the sunset is pretty blinding.”

“Great, I’ll go ask Charlie. I’m sure he’ll just give us a dragon if I tell him it’s because my friend is a dumb Slytherin who can’t even do a storybook ending properly.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “You get on that. I need to go see if the damsel in distress has taken his medicine.”

“Need a hand holding him down?”

“You might consider putting your shirt back on before I have to treat Dennis for a heart attack too. I don’t think he could handle seeing those abs.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt back on. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s the abs that would get him,” Ginny said sarcastically. 

“Well, it’s certainly what gets me,” Astoria said. Then she flicked the curtains open and walked away before Ginny had a chance to process what she’d said. _It’s certainly what gets me_. Ginny shook herself and followed after Astoria.


	3. You only have to answer to yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally freed of N.E.W.T.s, Ginny spends a lazy Saturday with friends.

> Saturday, 12 June 1999. Hogwarts.

“I can’t believe we’re not coming back,” Ginny said. She was sitting under a tree with Hermione, enjoying their first free day after finishing their N.E.W.T.s. Hermione, as usual, had her nose pressed to a book, and Ginny was staring lazily at the lake. 

“I thought you couldn’t wait to leave,” Hermione said. She glanced up from her book to look at Ginny. 

“It’s just weird, you know? I’ll be glad to never have to be reminded of the Carrows again, but this year has been good.” Ginny watched a couple students race across the lake on brooms, bare feet grazing the surface. 

“Because of quidditch?” Hermione followed Ginny’s gaze. 

“There’s that, yeah.” Quidditch was good, but it wasn’t just about the matches. Ever since third year, Ginny had been sneaking out to play with girls from the other houses—girls who, like her, had to put up with boys who didn’t think she had a place on the pitch. Sneaking out on her brothers’ brooms at home was one thing, but getting to play proper matches was something else entirely. This year, they’d finally stopped sneaking, and their small but dedicated team of girls had more than tripled into a full-blown girls’ quidditch league. 

“You know what I mean, Ginny.” Hermione’s mouth twitched into a slight smile. “I’m glad you’ve made friends.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. She knew Hermione was talking about Astoria. Ginny had to keep their friendship secret to protect Astoria’s identity as a spy for Dumbledore’s Army. Not even Hermione had known Astoria was actually on their side, and it’d taken the better part of the last year to convince her otherwise. “I already _had_ friends. You and everyone else just finally figured it out.” 

“You ranted to me almost every day about how much you hated her. How was I supposed to know you were secretly the best of friends?”

“It was a _cover_ , Hermione. I’m a bit insulted you really believed it, you know. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Honestly, if I hadn’t known you were mad for Harry, I might have thought you _fancied_ her with how much you talked about her. Not that you’re like that, I mean,” Hermione added quickly. 

Ginny laughed. “I was just mimicking the way Harry talked about Malfoy, you know. Do you think Harry might fancy Malfoy?”

Hermione shuddered. “Definitely not, gross. I don’t think I could be friends with someone like that.” Ginny’s insides turned to ice. _Like what?_ “Harry definitely fancies you, thankfully.” Hermione looked at Ginny and frowned. “What? You look like you’ve walked through a ghost. Do you not—”

Hermione’s question was cut off by a scream. Ginny was on her feet in a flash, wand out, with Hermione scrambling up a moment later. She looked out over the lake and saw it: near the middle of the lake, the water was rippling angrily. One of the students who had been flying over the lake was hovering high above, staring down at the water. Ginny had a horrible feeling where their friend was. She swore and sprinted toward the edge of the lake and waved the kid—he must have been a Third Year at most—over. 

“The—the squid!” The boy sputtered when he landed. 

“Give me that,” Ginny said and grabbed his broomstick.

“ _Accio Comet 360_!” Someone else shouted behind her. Ginny spun, already halfway onto the broom, and saw Astoria, Rhianna, and Dennis sprinting to the lake. “Duck!” Astoria shouted to Ginny and the Third Year, pointing at the lake. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ginny grabbed the kid and pulled him down to the ground with her. From the ground, she saw a broomstick, gripped desperately in one hand by a very soaked and terrified girl, burst through the water, fly over their heads, and crash hard right into Astoria, who staggered backward and fell onto her bum. 

Ginny, Hermione, and the boy rushed over.

“Are you okay, Heather?” the boy asked the soaked girl. He and Ginny helped Heather to her feet, and Dennis and Rhianna pulled Astoria up. Heather nodded, staring wide-eyed at Astoria. She was one of the new players in the girls’ quidditch league that Astoria and Rhianna ran. Ginny recognised the wide eyes of someone who saw not the Astoria she knew, but the Carrows’ favourite student. 

“What have I told you about flying over the lake, Heather?” Astoria said, paying no mind to the look Heather was giving her. Astoria quickly fired off a handful of charms at Heather, who was soon dry and no longer shivering.

“Lake high five!” Dennis said, holding up his hand. “That was brilliant!” Heather grinned slightly and gave Dennis a weak high-five.

“Merlin, Dennis, don’t encourage her,” Rhianna said. 

“Where’d it grab you?” Astoria asked.

“My ankle,” Heather said. She pulled up her robes slightly. Astoria knelt down and inspected her ankle.

“Does it hurt?” A soft green light left Astoria’s wand and wrapped around Heather’s ankle. Heather shook her head. “Well, I think you’re fine, but you need to go to Madam Pomfrey anyway.” Astoria stood up and looked at her. “I’ll know if you don’t go.” Heather nodded, still wide-eyed like a terrified animal.

“Oh, c’mon,” Rhianna said irritably. She grabbed Astoria’s left arm and pulled her sleeve up. “She’s not a Death Eater, see?” Astoria jerked her arm away from Rhianna and pulled her sleeve back down.

“It’s fine,” Astoria said quietly. 

“C’mon, Heather,” the boy said. With a suspicious glance at Astoria, he took his broom back from Ginny. “I’ll take you to the Hospital Wing.” 

“Here.” Astoria picked up the other broomstick and handed it to Heather. Heather and the boy hurried away toward the castle. As soon as they were out of earshot, Astoria turned on Rhianna. “Bloody hell, Rhianna. What was that for? She was _fine_.”

“She was looking at you like—” Rhianna said.

“Like someone who just got pulled into the lake, spat out, and flown like thirty feet through the air.”

“To be fair,” Dennis said, “Astoria _is_ the one who made her fly through the air like that. I hear a lot of Death Eaters know the summoning charm.”

“It’s not _funny_ , Dennis,” Rhianna said. “Astoria fought on _our_ side. She could have died, and people still treat her like she was just sipping tea with the Carrows all last year.” Rhianna had been on a bit of a crusade all year to convince people of Astoria’s true loyalties. Over the past few weeks, she’d become absolutely frantic with the idea that Astoria would come back next year without anyone left to stick up for her. Ginny knew Dennis would eagerly take the reins as defender of Astoria’s name though.

“So what were you planning to do, Ginny?” Astoria said, apparently disinterested in arguing with Rhianna anymore. “Just dive in on a broomstick?”

“Hadn’t really thought that far, to be honest,” Ginny said. “Summoning was smart. Lucky she held on though.”

“Lucky I remembered what kind of broom she flies, really.”

“The squid doesn’t usually attack students,” Hermione said. She’d summoned her things and sat back down with her book.

“Oh, it wasn’t attacking,” Astoria said.

“It was playing,” Ginny said. She looked at Astoria and grinned. They would know—the giant squid had pulled both of them into the lake several times over the years. Hermione looked between the two of them and frowned.

“This is another one of those _quidditch_ things I don’t want to know about, isn’t it?” Hermione asked. Ginny had kept the late-night quidditch outings a secret even from Hermione, who she’d rightly assumed wouldn’t approve. Now that they didn’t need to sneak around anymore though, Ginny had started telling Hermione some of the tamer stories. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never played tag with the giant squid under the moonlight, Hermione,” Astoria teased. 

“How come you never invited _me_ to play moonlight squid tag?” Dennis asked Astoria.

“Because I am not explaining that one to your mum,” Rhianna said. 

“Wait, you got to play with the squid too?”

“Of course I did. You think I’d let these two geniuses fly all over the grounds all night without me? I _invented_ moonlight squid tag.”

“Rubbish,” Ginny said. “Skimming the lake was _my_ idea.”

“Yeah, but when the squid pulled Astoria in, you just screamed at me to do something. I was the one who kept cool and decided it was a fantastic game.”

“Look, I’m glad you found my near-drowning to be such a great source of entertainment, but go back a second,” Astoria said. “You really think Ginny and I never snuck out without you, Rhianna?”

“I mean obviously I didn’t stay up every time,” Rhianna said. Astoria and Ginny exchanged a meaningful look. “Oh, I know you two have snuck out a bunch this year.” Ginny was struggling to not laugh. Astoria coughed, which Ginny was sure was covering a laugh. Rhianna looked sternly at Astoria. “You did _not_ go on midnight joy rides with _Ginny Weasley_ in the middle of a _war_ , Astoria.”

“It was only like twice,” Ginny said. 

“That was very reckless,” Hermione said, more to Ginny than to Astoria.

“You told me it was too risky when I said I’d sneak out with you,” Rhianna huffed at Astoria. 

“Yeah, that was after Ginny and I got caught,” Astoria said. “By Pansy Parkinson. In the broom shed.” 

“Oh no.” Rhianna looked torn between horror and a fit of laughter. Ginny felt her skin crawl just remembering it. Ginny had duelled them both, stunned Astoria, wiped Parkinson’s memory, and escaped okay, but Parkinson always seemed to be watching her more closely after that. 

“Oh yes,” Astoria said. “She always suspected me. All she needed was proof, and we almost gave it to her.”

“In the broom shed no less.” Rhianna smirked at Astoria, and Astoria rolled her eyes. 

“So, Hermione,” Astoria said loudly, “how does it feel to no longer have any exams to study for? Ever?”

“Oh, I reckon I’ll have plenty of studying to do still,” Hermione said. “Even if I go the political route, I think it would be good to take the law exams.”

“Why would you want to take _more_ exams?” Dennis asked with a shudder. “The O.W.L.s were bad enough.”

“No one tell him what’s coming in two years,” Astoria said quickly. She jumped behind him and covered his ears, shielding him from the horrible truth of N.E.W.T.s. 

“I’m _sixteen_ ,” Dennis protested, “and I know about N.E.W.T.s.” He pulled away from her, turned, and smushed his hands over Astoria’s face. 

“Which means you’re not of age.” Astoria ducked and dodged, laughing, and the two quickly devolved into wrestling, trying to see who could knock the other over first. Ginny knew Astoria could win easily. She was smaller than him, but Astoria had years of practice—it was a game she and Ginny had played countless times over the years. 

“Ginny, help me,” Dennis said as Astoria nearly knocked him over. Ginny could tell she was going easy on him, toying with him.

“And here I thought you were _sixteen_ , Dennis,” Ginny teased. Dennis tried using a burst of force to overpower Astoria, but Astoria saw it coming and let him take himself down with his own momentum. Not one to give up that easily, Dennis lunged for Astoria’s knees, but it didn’t do much.

“Really?” Astoria laughed. “That’s it?”

Ginny sighed. Someone had to take her down a notch. Ginny stepped in front of Astoria, Dennis still clinging to her knees, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Oh, hello, Ginny," Astoria said. "Lovely weather we’re having today, don’t you think?”

“Oh, just fantastic.” Ginny and Astoria locked eyes. Astoria knew what Ginny was going to do. Ginny knew what Astoria was going to do. It was only a question of who was faster. Of course, Ginny had the advantage that Astoria didn’t have use of her knees.

“Staring deep into her soul is not helping, Ginny,” Dennis said. “Destroy her. Bring honour to us all.”

“She’ll have to be as swift as the coursing river,” Astoria laughed.

She looked down at him, grinning, for the briefest of seconds, and Ginny seized her chance. In one bound, she threw her shoulder into Astoria’s stomach and brought her down, knees buckling, on top of Dennis, who quickly disentangled himself from Astoria’s legs. Before Astoria could catch her breath, Ginny grabbed her wrists, pinned them down to the ground, and locked her knees around Astoria’s hips. 

“Well played,” Astoria gasped once air had returned to her lungs. It occurred to Ginny that Astoria was pretty just then, breathless and smiling, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. 

“See? I’m smarter than I look,” Dennis said, dusting himself off. “Knew you couldn’t resist _Mulan_.” Ginny didn’t know what exactly a mulan was, but from the way Dennis and Astoria talked, she figured it was one of the many muggle things that Dennis had introduced Astoria to last summer. 

“I’m just too quick for Astoria,” Ginny said.

“Oh, are you now?” Astoria said. Ginny knew that look she had. Astoria hadn’t bothered resisting or trying to squirm out of Ginny’s grasp, but her eyes made it clear she was just biding her time, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

“You’ve created a monster, Dennis,” Rhianna said. “They’re never going to stop now.”

“Well, Astoria started it,” Dennis said.

Just then, a jolt of energy shot through Ginny’s hands and up her arms. Instinctively, she jerked her hands away, and Astoria seized the opportunity. In one swift motion, Astoria managed to roll Ginny over, hands pressing down on Ginny’s upper arms and knees in Ginny’s stomach. She leaned in close, loose strands of her black hair falling across Ginny’s face, mouth an inch from Ginny’s ear. 

“Help me,” Astoria whispered.

Dennis must have sensed danger because he took off running before Astoria had even gotten up. She tore after him, and Ginny followed. 

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of arms and legs, dirt and grass. Dennis gave up on their game quickly, but Astoria and Ginny were both far too competitive and stubborn to concede anything. Only when their friends grew tired of watching them fight and declared a tie did they finally give up. (Ginny had definitely won, but Astoria wouldn’t admit it.)


	4. She wants more dinero just to stay at home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny goes on a trip into muggle London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: “fag” is slang for cigarette in British English

> Tuesday, 27 July 1999. Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Late afternoon.

“Your total comes out to eight galleons, three sickles, and five knuts,” Ginny said as she finished punching the numbers into the calculator. 

“Eight galleons?” The boy said. Ginny recognised him vaguely. He went to Hogwarts. Ravenclaw? Third year? He hadn’t been at Hogwarts under the Carrows. “Oh well.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out a fistful of coins, more than Ginny had ever had at his age. He counted out nine galleons, handed them to Ginny, and pocketed the rest.

“Thanks.” Ginny opened the till and carefully counted out his change. George had taught her to just count up from the sale price until she reached how much she’d been given. Five knuts up to one sickle was twenty-four more knuts. Three sickles, carry the one, four sickles—thirteen more sickles. Nine galleons total. “Here you go.” She handed him the change and a bag full of her brothers’ inventions.

“Thanks, Weasley.” He grinned and left. Ginny closed the till and sighed. She hated counting out change. She was always sure she’d done it wrong. Why did money have to be such weird numbers? Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle, seventeen sickles to a galleon—it was if someone was playing a sick joke on everyone who was bad with numbers.

Ginny had thought she would like working with George and Lee, but she quickly discovered running a shop just wasn’t for her. George usually put her in charge of the till, which meant sitting for hours at the counter, adding up prices, counting out change, and plastering on a smile for each customer, whether or not she actually felt like smiling. Even when someone was being rude, George wanted her to be calm and patient. Ginny wasn’t good at calm and patient, but she’d learned to just call for George when she felt her temper rising.

George was surprisingly good at nodding politely at the occasional rude customer. Most of the time, it was someone who’d come to complain that a Skiving Snackbox had made them ill. Ginny was surprised at just how many people couldn’t follow two simple steps and would take the halves in the wrong order. George took it in stride and usually offered a free replacement to soothe them. Ginny thought those people were just stupid and didn’t deserve anything at all.

The other issue with working at her brother’s shop was that she knew he would never have hired her if she wasn’t his sister, and he certainly would have fired her by now. She was a bad employee. He’d tried letting her work the floor and make sales, and she’d been rubbish at it. He tried involving her in some of the more creative aspects of the shop, like designing displays, and she was even more rubbish at that. He had even tried bringing her in on the inventing side of things with Lee, but she just didn’t mesh right with them. So George stuck her on the till and had her help with restocking. She wasn’t good at those either, but her shortcomings didn’t hurt the shop as much there as they did elsewhere.

“Ginny,” George called from the front of the store, “some of the Skiving Snackboxes are running low again. Can you grab some out of the back and restock?”

“Sure,” she called back. Ginny pocketed the key for the till and went to the back room to grab more snackboxes. 

“Hey,” someone said, as Ginny was picking up a box. Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin and dropped the box, which spilled its contents out all over the floor. Ginny swore. “Shoot, sorry, Ginny.” Rhianna stepped over and knelt down to help. 

“It’s fine,” Ginny said. 

“George said you were back here. I should have just waited.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny repeated. She and Rhianna got the last snackboxes back into the box, and Ginny stood back up with the box. “What are you doing here though? Did you close early?” Ginny went out to restock and Rhianna followed. 

“I’m busting you out of here, that’s what,” Rhianna said. Ginny set the box down in front of the snackbox display and started restocking. “Well, first you need to change. Can’t go walking around muggle London looking like _that_.” 

“Muggle London? Why would you want to go to muggle London?”

“There’s a sandwich place I want to take you to. No place better.” Rhianna grinned. 

“You’re telling me to leave work and put on muggle clothes for a sandwich?”

“It’s the atmosphere, really.”

Ginny stopped and looked at Rhianna carefully. “Astoria works at a sandwich shop?”

“Astoria? Who said anything about Astoria?”

“Your face did.”

“Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” 

“I’ll ask George.” Ginny finished restocking the display and picked the box back up. There were some snackboxes left, but they wouldn’t fit in the display, so she took the box to the back again. 

It took almost nothing to convince George. Ginny wasn’t exactly essential, and he seemed to think Ginny needed to get out more anyway. Rhianna and Ginny changed into muggle clothes, and then they walked through Diagon Alley, out The Leaky Cauldron, and into the muggle world. 

“C’mon, the tube is this way,” Rhianna said. She led Ginny through the streets, clearly far more familiar with muggle London than Ginny and into some sort of subway system. Rhianna didn’t bother explaining how any of it worked. She bought tickets, put Ginny through the barricades, and led her down the many stairs to the platform. 

Soon enough, they had emerged back onto a busy muggle street, and Rhianna pushed on. She’d clearly made this journey before. 

“Oh, it’s you,” an employee said when Rhianna and Ginny walked into the sandwich shop. She was wiping down the counter and barely spared a glance at them. 

“Hey, Christina,” Rhianna said. “Is Tori working?”

Christina, the employee, laughed hollowly. “She _was_ , but she and Phil are in the back now.”

“I thought he wasn’t working today.”

“Oh, he’s not.” Her face was dark and angry. “Hey, Phil!” she called. “Tori!”

“What?” A man’s voice called from the back, sounding irritated. 

“Get out here!” Ginny heard the man sigh irritably, and then a tall, blond man probably a few years older than her came out. His hair was messy, and his shirt was disheveled. 

“What is so important, Christina?” he said. Then his eyes fell on Rhianna. “There a reason you’re here?” he said coldly. 

“GINNY!” Astoria screamed. In one smooth movement she went from the doorway, shoved the man who must have been Phil aside, leapt over the counter, and nearly tackled Ginny to the floor with an enthusiastic hug. “Bloody hell, what are you doing here?” 

“Ginny?” Phil said. “This is Ginny?” Something about the way he said it made Ginny’s stomach turn.

“Well, clearly,” Christina said. “And she either needs to buy something or get out because Tori is supposed to be _working_.”

“She has been,” Phil said defensively. “She’s been helping me—”

“Gross, don’t tell me about it.” The bell rung as someone else walked in. “Oh, and there’s my cue. I’m going for a fag. One of you two lovebirds can handle this one.” Without another word, Christina slipped out the back. 

“I’ve got it,” Astoria said. She stepped back around the counter and stood at the register. 

“Go on, move,” Phil muttered, waving Ginny and Rhianna out of the way. He stepped out from behind the counter and followed them into an out of the way corner. “Right, hi, I’m Phil,” he said, holding his hand out to Ginny. He smiled at her as she shook his hand. “I’m Tori’s boyfriend.” Astoria had a boyfriend? That was news to Ginny. 

“Ginny. I’m—”

“Tori’s friend, I know. She talks about you a lot.” His nose twitched. 

“It’s a real shame they haven’t seen each other in a month,” Rhianna said. Phil’s eyes flashed to Rhianna and narrowed suspiciously. “You know how busy Tori is.”

“I suppose you have a suggestion?” Phil said to Rhianna. Rhianna just shrugged. Phil glanced back at Astoria, and then he looked at Rhianna. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

“Oh? What am I doing?”

Phil looked at Ginny, and then back at Rhianna. His nose twitched again. “You know what?" he said. "Whatever. I’m a bigger person than you, Rhi.” He turned and went back behind the counter where Astoria was ringing up a customer. 

“What was that about?” Ginny asked.

The customer finished paying and left. Phil leaned over and whispered into Astoria’s ear.

“Phil doesn’t like me much,” Rhianna said. At the counter, Astoria’s face lit up, and she flung her arms around Phil. “Not that I like him much either though.”

Ginny watched as Astoria grabbed Phil’s face and kissed him. Somehow, she’d never really thought about Astoria wanting to kiss anyone or have a boyfriend, and now it seemed...weird? Astoria pulled away from him, still smiling. She said something Ginny couldn’t hear and then disappeared into the back room. Phil looked over at them, and Ginny tried her best to look like she hadn’t been watching them. 

Rhianna grabbed a sandwich from the display and walked up to the counter. Ginny picked out one for herself and followed.

“Oh, you’re actually buying something this time?” Phil asked.

“Sod off,” Rhianna said. 

“Word of advice, Rhi: skip the sandwich. Too many carbs, see?”

“You’re a real git, Phil.”

“I’m just looking out for Tori.”

Rhianna’s jaw clenched. Ginny got the distinct sense she was on the outside of an inside joke that wasn’t very funny.

“I can think of a thousand other, better ways you could ‘look out’ for her that don’t involve nosing in my business,” Rhianna said.

“How are your attempts to get her to _nose_ in your _business_ going, by the way?” Phil said. He smirked as if he’d just made a very clever joke and Ginny, once again, felt out of the loop.

Rhianna pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “You’re disgusting, Phil.”

“What’s he done now?” Astoria said. She stepped out of the backroom, a bag over her shoulder, a jacket on, and her apron gone. Her eyes caught Ginny’s, and she beamed. Ginny couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you leaving?” Rhianna asked. “I thought you were working until close.”

“Can’t imagine you both came all the way out here just to say hi and leave, did you? Phil said he’d cover the rest of my shift.”

“See?” Phil said. “That’s the sort of thoughtful things us disgusting gits do.” He reached out, dragged Astoria closer, and pulled her tight against him, arm over her shoulder. Phil and Rhianna stared each other down, as if daring the other to flinch first.

“Have you guys eaten yet?” Astoria said. “I’m starved.”

“Food sounds good,” Ginny said. “Guessing you don’t want a sandwich?”

“Jesus, no. Anything but a sandwich.” She shrugged Phil’s arm off her. “I know a few places nearby.”

“Get a kebab in my honour,” Phil said. 

“Gross,” Astoria said. She started to move away, but Phil grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward him. 

“Wait, you forgot something.” He kissed her again, hard, and Astoria staggered backward. Ginny thought it was like watching a bludger hit someone—you didn’t want to see it, and yet you couldn’t look away. 

“Oh, fucking _hell_.” Christina, Astoria’s coworker, had just walked back in. “At least go in the back if you’re gonna try to shag a bloody _child_ at work, Phil.” Phil let go of Astoria, who ducked under his arm and came around the counter, face bright red.

“See you tomorrow,” Astoria said quickly. Her voice was high and strained, and she seemed to be talking to the ceiling. Astoria rushed past Ginny and Rhianna and headed straight for the door. They followed.

Ginny wasn’t sure what to say, and neither Rhianna or Astoria seemed to have anything to say either. Finally, well away from the sandwich shop, Ginny said awkwardly, “So that’s your boyfriend.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” Astoria said quickly. 

“Er, yeah, okay.”

“He’s not normally that, er—”

“Repulsive?” Rhianna offered. “No, I suppose it’s only whenever I’m around. Probably thinks I’ll stop coming if he grosses me out enough.”

“What’s his problem?” Ginny asked. “Er, I just mean with Rhianna. I’m sure your boyfriend is—”

“It’s okay, Ginny,” Astoria said. “You don’t have to pretend to like him. I know he’s a bit of a git sometimes. His problem though is that he’s Rhianna’s cousin.”

“That’s your _cousin_?” Ginny thought the two could not be more unlike each other.

“We used to get along too,” Rhianna said. “Then he decided to snog my best friend and get weird about it.”

“He thinks she’s a threat,” Astoria laughed. 

“A threat?” Ginny asked. 

“He just thinks I’d be sleeping with him already if not for Rhianna. He’s completely wrong, of course. I’m not ever sleeping with him, Rhianna or not. I _told_ him it’s only for the summer until I go back to school, but I think he’s getting attached.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure he thinks if I’d just sleep with him, I’ll decide to throw away my future, skip school, and work in a crappy sandwich shop with him for the rest of my life.”

“C’mon, Astoria,” Rhianna said, “he’s never going to convince another girl to snog him. What’s he going to do come September?”

“Same thing he does now. Sit at home alone thinking of me while he wanks.”

“Gross,” Ginny said, shuddering. “Really didn’t need that mental image.”

“Oh, it’s fine, Ginny. You can think of me while you wank too.”

Rhianna choked loudly. Ginny’s foot somehow missed the ground, and she stumbled. Astoria caught her arm and pulled her back up. 

“Can I think of you too?” Rhianna asked, barely keeping a straight face. 

Astoria laughed. “I know who you actually fancy," she said. "Should I tell Ginny?”

“Oh Merlin.”

“Who?” Ginny asked. She was grateful for any excuse to be done talking about Astoria’s boyfriend wanking.

“Oh, Astoria, don’t,” Rhianna moaned. 

“It’s very embarrassing,” Astoria said gleefully. “Truly terrible.”

“I swear, Astoria.”

“I’m not going to tell her.”

“Good.”

“But, you know, the offer still stands. Daphne owes me, after all.”

“I think I’m good, thanks.”

“They’re friends still—somehow. I’m sure Daphne could swing it. Make it a blind date. We could even get you a disguise to keep your identity secret.”

“Wait,” Ginny said. “Rhianna fancies one of _Daphne’s_ friends? Doesn’t your sister still hang out with a bunch of Death Eaters and their lot?”

“Like I said, truly terrible,” Astoria said.

“Bloody hell, Rhianna.”

“You’re one to talk about terrible, Astoria,” Rhianna said. “You’re _dating_ Phil. You know he’s a _Tory_ , right?”

“A what now?” Ginny asked. 

“A Tory,” Astoria said. “Muggle politics. I'm sure Lucius Malfoy secretly votes for them. And yes, I do. Funny thing, but it turns out I have to listen to his shitty politics a lot less if his mouth is busy doing other things.”

“Please don’t tell me about those other things,” Rhianna said. “I’ve already seen plenty.” Astoria’s cheeks turned pink.

“So what I’m learning is you both have terrible taste in men,” Ginny said. Astoria and Rhianna exchanged a glance, and Rhianna shook her head quickly. “What?”

“Not all of us can win the heart of The Chosen One, you know,” Astoria said. “How is Harry, by the way? Does he know you’re hanging out with a _Death Eater_? Does he approve?”

“You’re not a Death Eater,” Ginny said firmly. 

“Someone should tell Harry then.”

“Going to tell _your_ boyfriend not to be a dick about Rhianna then?”

“Ginny, it’s fine,” Rhianna said. 

“Bull," Ginny said. "You're her best friend. She shouldn’t be dating someone who—”

“Ginny, really.”

“It’s not fine at all. Astoria shouldn’t put up with her boyfriend—”

“He knows I used to fancy her,” Rhianna said suddenly and quickly. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. 

“He—you— _what_?”

“C’mon,” Astoria said, grabbing Ginny’s arm, “you can’t just stop in the middle of the footpath.” Astoria pulled her down the street and through the door of a small restaurant. “Indian good with you?”

“What?” 

“Food, Ginny. We were getting dinner.” Ginny looked around, feeling like this really wasn’t the moment for picking food. “Is Indian good with you?”

“I, er,” Ginny stammered. Her brain was still trying to process what Rhianna had said, but she also had no idea if she liked Indian food. 

“Here,” Astoria grabbed a menu and shoved it in Ginny’s hands. The Rajdoot, it said. Ginny hadn’t the faintest idea what that meant. 

“I’ll, er, just have whatever you’re having.” She handed the menu back to Astoria.

“Oh my god. You’ve never had Indian before, have you?”

“No?” Ginny said. Her family never ate out at restaurants, so all she’d ever had was whatever her mum made or what they served at Hogwarts, which was mostly just typical British fare. 

“Right, I’ll get you something mild then. What kind of meat do you want?”

“I said I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“You don’t want—?”

“If there’s nothing good for you, we shouldn’t be here.”

“No, Indian is great for me.”

“Then whatever you’re having works for me too.”

“You’re not opposed to any—?”

“Bloody hell, Astoria, I can eat vegetables. Just order something.”

“Right, fine. Chicken tikka masala, Rhianna?”

“Yeah, sure,” Rhianna said. “And get me some rice.”

“Of course. Go grab a place to sit with Ginny, will you? I’ll come find you once the food is done.”

“Yeah, sure, c’mon, Ginny.” 


	5. I'm looking like class, and he's looking like trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny, Rhianna, and Astoria have dinner in muggle London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: homophobic slur, homophobic sports chant, mention of physical and verbal abuse

> Paddington Street Gardens.

Ginny followed Rhianna back out. Rhianna led her across the street and into the gardens. They found a patch of grass and sat down. Ginny was itching to ask her a million questions, but she held her tongue. Rhianna sighed and laid down, staring up at the sky.

“Just to, er, clarify,” Rhianna said quietly, “I’m gay.” She massaged her own shoulder absentmindedly, as if it was sore.

“Oh. That’s, er—” Ginny said. What was it? Good? Bad? Ginny hadn’t a clue. She’d heard the word gay before, but she didn’t really know anything about what it _actually_ meant. She knew it meant fancying the same gender, but she didn’t know any gay _people_. Sure, Fred and George had always said Ron was gay, but he was dating Hermione, so he couldn’t be gay. 

“Yeah.” Ginny realised Rhianna was watching for her reaction, eyes nervously flickering over to Ginny. She didn’t know how she was supposed to react—was she supposed to offer her condolences? Should she congratulate Rhianna?—so she decided to outsource her reaction instead.

“Astoria knows?” 

“Yeah, she’s known for years.” 

“And she’s—?”

“Cool with it?” Rhianna shrugged. “It’s the most normal thing in the world to her, innit. You’d’ve thought I told her I have blonde hair, the way she acted.”

“That’s good,” Ginny said tentatively. If Astoria was cool with her best friend being gay, Ginny trusted her. And if Astoria had known for years—well, Astoria had never once seemed uncomfortable around Rhianna. If anything, Astoria was always _more_ comfortable around Rhianna than she was with others. Ginny couldn’t see why she should be any different.

“Yeah. I think she’s more okay with it than me sometimes.” Rhianna pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at Ginny. “It’s okay if you’re, you know, not okay with it. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s fine,” Ginny said quickly. “I just don’t really know anything about being gay.” 

“Oh, it’s pretty simple.” Rhianna sat up fully now. “For women, you just cut off your hair, become a vegetarian, wear baggy clothes, and Bob’s your uncle.” Rhianna grinned nervously—an attempt at a joke.

“Sounds like you’re doing it wrong then. I count zero out of three.”

“I never said I was _good_ at being gay.” Rhianna’s shoulders relaxed, and Ginny let herself relax too. “Anyway, I wasn’t actually trying to have a whole coming out thing tonight. What I was _trying_ to say is don’t be so hard on Astoria about Phil. Other than all this, he’s not a bad bloke. It’s just, you know, kind of weird for him.”

“Because you’re, er, gay?” It felt weird to say, like calling her a bad name, but it was the word Rhianna used, so Ginny figured it was the best one to use.

“Because I told him I was going to _marry_ her, like. Mind, this was third year, and I am entirely confident that I don’t fancy her even the slightest now, but it’s proper weird for him. I just want her to be happy.” 

“Is she?”

Rhianna shrugged. “You know how she is. It’s hard to tell sometimes, innit. But she’s—well, I don’t know if happy is the right word, but I think he’s good for her. For once, she gets to just be normal, like. I don’t care much for Phil these days, but I’ll at least give him that much. He’s incredibly normal, and he seems to be the only person who can ever convince her to take a break from anything. Well, and you, I suppose.”

“Me?”

“She wouldn’t have let Phil cover her shift to spend time with _me_ , Ginny.”

“Well, yeah, you live together. She sees you all the time.”

“Not really. She usually leaves before I’m up and gets home after I’ve gone to bed. Dennis sees her more than I do, he does—although probably not anymore.” 

“What happened with Dennis?”

“Oh, nothing. He just _really_ hates Phil. Phil thinks he’s trying to steal Astoria—”

“I’m noticing a theme here.”

“Oh, really? Fancy joining the competition too? Seven sickle entry fee, winner gets Astoria’s heart and a coupon for a new hat. That’s what I’m in it for, a tidy new hat.”

“A competition? I’m in. Where do I pay the entry fee?”

“Ah, that’s the real trick. You see, you have to somehow get Astoria to take it without her knowing why, but of course she’ll never accept money from you. And to be clear, she has to knowingly accept the seven sickles too. No sneaking it into her pocket or anything.”

“Challenge accepted. How’d you and Dennis do it?” 

“Can’t tell you. That’d be cheating, it would. You’re really going to try to get her to take seven sickles from you now, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding? You can’t just present a Gryffindor with a challenge that is equal parts impossible and pointless and expect us _not_ to try it.”

“Just to be clear, I am definitely not challenging you to try to break Astoria and Phil up.”

“Yeah, I just want to prove I can trick Astoria into accepting money.”

Rhianna laughed. “Good luck.” 

“You and Dennis didn’t _really_ give Astoria seven sickles, did you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make Dennis do it too. He loves a dumb challenge just as much as you do.”

“You have to give her seven sickles too, or you can’t have that new hat you want.”

“I’m not _actually_ trying to steal Astoria, you know.”

“Neither am I. I just want to see who can get Astoria to accept money for no clear reason. It’s an excellent challenge.”

“Why do I feel like your real motive here is just to find yet another thing to beat Astoria at?”

“Oh, please, you have been egging us both on for years. Not once have you ever actually tried to get us to stop competing with each other over everything. And just for the record, I’m winning.”

“Uh huh. Of course you are. I’m sure Astoria will agree.”

“Of course she won’t. She’s too stubborn.”

Rhianna laughed, and then they both were silent. Ginny felt like someone had dumped a giant pile of books into her brain and told her to read. Rhianna was gay. Astoria apparently thought it was fine—fine enough that she’d even joked about it earlier, hadn’t she? Then Ginny remembered what Astoria had been teasing Rhianna about.

“Am I allowed to know now what terrible person you fancy?” Ginny asked.

“Oh,” Rhianna said, blushing. “Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t know if I can even say it though. Ask Astoria when she comes back, and I’ll just dig myself a tidy hole to bury myself in and die of shame.”

“It can’t be _that_ bad. It’s not like you fancy, er—” Ginny tried to think of the absolute worst girl they went to school with and found her answer easily— “Pansy Parkinson or something.” Rhianna responded by simply pulling the hood of her jacket over her head, burying her face in her knees, and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. “Parkinson??? Bloody hell, Rhianna, Pansy fucking Parkinson????” 

“Christ, Ginny, what have you done to Rhianna?” Astoria called. Ginny looked up. Astoria was walking toward them carrying a large bag of what must have been their dinner. Astoria set the bag down and sat on the grass, face serious. 

“Pansy Parkinson!” Ginny shrieked. 

“Oh,” Astoria said. She relaxed. “I think Rhianna’s got a real shot with her.”

“I hate you,” Rhianna said, looking up from her knees to glare at Astoria. Her face was bright red.

“You know all that homophobia is just a cover for how incredibly gay she is. Honestly amazes me her parents didn’t beat the crap out of her for it.”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad for Pansy Parkinson?” Ginny asked. “Would they really beat her if she was gay?” As much as she hated Parkinson, she didn’t really want her to get beat, and certainly not for something as simple as being gay. 

“What? No, why would they do that? I meant for saying homophobic stuff all the time. No respected pureblood family would let their kids run around talking like that.”

“Purebloods are against _homophobia_?” Ginny asked. “Hating muggles and muggleborns is cool, but don’t hate _gay_ people?” 

“Yes, obviously. See, before muggleborns ruined everything, purebloods lived in perfect harmony and peace with no racism, sexism, homophobia, or anything like that. Everyone was treated equally, and no one ever suffered.”

“Bull.”

“I was joking, but blood supremacists are not all evil sadists in masks, you know. A lot of them—like my family—think they’re standing up for vulnerable people by opposing ‘muggle influence’ on our culture. Just because they’re wrong about one thing doesn’t mean they’re wrong about everything ever. My parents would have beat me half to death if I ever said the sort of stuff Pansy did.”

“Wait, so you’re cool with—with Rhianna, er, being—”

“Gay,” Astoria said firmly. 

“—because your _family_ taught you gay people are just dandy?”

“The hell kind of question is that?” Astoria’s hand twitched toward her pocket. 

“Astoria,” Rhianna said quietly. Astoria ignored her.

“If you have a problem with Rhianna—”

“I don’t have a problem with Rhianna,” Ginny snapped, her temper quickly catching up to Astoria’s. 

“But you have a problem with her being gay.”

“Astoria, don’t,” Rhianna said.

“I don’t—I—she—that’s not—”

“I really thought you wouldn’t care, Ginny," Astoria said, "but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What was that song you lot liked to sing all the time? ‘Draco Malfoy, Flint’s bent bitch—’”

“For fuck’s _sake_ , Astoria!” Rhianna shouted.

Astoria froze, wide-eyed, jaw open, staring at Rhianna. Rhianna rarely swore and even more rarely shouted, especially at Astoria. Ginny knew the song Astoria had started. It was one of the Gryffindors' favourites for taunting Malfoy, just like Malfoy had come up with “Weasley is Our King” to taunt Ron. It was just a way to get under Malfoy’s skin. It didn’t _mean_ anything.

“Eat,” Rhianna said sharply. “Both of you.” She opened up all the food and spread it out between them. “I’m not being funny neither.”

“Er,” Ginny said, staring at the containers. She hadn’t a clue what she was eating or how she was supposed to eat it. Astoria sighed dramatically.

“Here, have some rice,” Astoria said. She grabbed a lid and piled some of the rice on. “And then this—” she pointed to one of the containers— “is called aloo gobi. It just means potato cauliflower, and it’s just spices.” Astoria piled on some of it on one side of the rice. “And this one—” she pointed to another container— “is chana masala. It’s chickpeas. They’re just beans with sauce and spices.” Astoria added some to the other side of the rice and handed the lid-plate and a fork to Ginny. “Congrats, you’re cultured now.” Normally, Ginny would have laughed, but it didn’t feel like much of a joke. Astoria still looked one wrong word away from pulling out her wand in front of all the muggles around them. 

“You’re welcome to have some of mine too, if you want,” Rhianna said to Ginny. “It’s just chicken.”

“I’m okay, thanks,” Ginny said. 

Astoria let out another irritated sigh. “I _really_ don’t care if you eat chicken in front of me, Ginny,” she said. “I’ve _told_ you. Stop making such a big deal about it.”

“Bloody hell, Astoria, can I do anything without you feeling the need to criticise me for it? Or at the very least, could you let me know in advance how I’m supposed to feel about everything? It’s really hard to follow when one second you’re having a go at me for a stupid quidditch song, and the next you’re after my head just because I thought I’d try being vegetarian like you for one single meal.”

Astoria opened her mouth and then closed it again, apparently at a loss for words. “You—?” Astoria shook her head. “Sorry.” She looked down and ate her food quietly.

None of them said anything for a few minutes. Ginny could feel Rhianna’s eyes on her, watching for her or Astoria to start again, but Ginny didn’t want to fight. She missed Astoria. She hadn’t seen her in a month, and it was stupid that they were at each other’s throats.

“I’m just self-conscious about it,” Astoria said quietly. “I can’t—it’s—”

“I know,” Ginny said as gently as she could. “I’m not mocking you, I promise.”

Astoria had stopped eating meat immediately after the war. While most people thought it was some kind of statement she was making, Ginny knew Astoria was too stubborn to do anything, let alone something as big as being vegetarian, to prove herself to others. Astoria simply couldn’t eat meat. She was too horrified at the thought that an innocent creature would die to feed her. 

“How’s your first time having Indian?” Astoria asked politely. 

“It’s good? I’m not really used to all these spices, so it’s a bit overwhelming, but I think I like it. The potatoes are really good.”

“Of course you like the potatoes.” Astoria grinned. “Way to be a stereotype. It’s called aloo gobi.”

“Aloo gobi,” Ginny repeated. 

“Now you can order Indian all by yourself. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Astoria.” Ginny rolled her eyes and laughed. 

“Do you need to be home by a certain time, Ginny?” Rhianna asked. 

“No, I’m good. I don’t have work tomorrow either.”

“Right then. Astoria, what’s the plan?”

“Me?” Astoria said.

“Yes, you. We came to see you, so we can do whatever you want.”

Astoria looked between the two of them, thinking. “Wait a second,” she said, eyes suddenly stopping on Ginny. “Is that my jacket?” Astoria got up, stepped over the food, and knelt down next to Ginny. Ginny watched her adjust the collar and run her hands down the sleeves, looking the jacket up and down. It was made out of denim, like jeans. 

“Yeah,” Rhianna said. “I figured your clothes would fit her better than mine.”

“It looks good on you,” Astoria told Ginny. Ginny felt suddenly self-conscious. Astoria flashed her a wild grin, tugged gently on the front to adjust it, and then turned her attention back to Rhianna and the rest of their food. “We should show Ginny around muggle London.” Astoria grabbed her food and continued eating. “You know, all the cool muggle stuff our kind never see. Teach her about muggle culture.”

“I bet she’s never seen a film.”

“A what?” Ginny asked. 

“Oh, I know just the film!” Astoria said. “Prepare yourself, Ginny, for the greatest piece of muggle entertainment you’ll ever see. Are you ready? Do you feel ready?”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about, but sure, I’m ready.”

“She’s not ready,” Astoria told Rhianna.

“Are you talking about _Star Wars_?” Rhianna asked. “Dennis will be fuming if you watch it without him.”

“Dennis should have thought about that before—”

“Are you still on about that?” Rhianna sighed.

“Yes! You—both of you—cannot accept that I actually like Phil.”

“A few minutes ago, you were about to tear Ginny’s throat out for not leading a bloody pride parade, but you’re totally cool with Phil being actually, _actively_ homophobic?”

“I’m not cool with it. But yes, I have higher standards for Ginny. I don’t plan on breaking up with her in a month. And in any case, you and Dennis keep trying to make him say homophobic things. You bait him all the time.”

“I don’t bait Phil, Astoria.”

“Okay, fine, it’s really just Dennis doing most of it, but you haven’t been helping.”

“What’s Dennis done?” Ginny asked.

“Well, last week, in his latest attempt to bait Phil, he decided to show up at my job wearing my bloody clothes and proceeded to hit on my boyfriend before handing him a mixtape that he’d written the words, ‘if you had my love’ on. And then he told Phil to pass the message along to me, because it’s not enough to try to bait some homophobia out of him. No, Dennis also wants Phil to get jealous and think Dennis has a _thing_ for me, which would be disgusting. Anyway, I was on break, heard shouting, and came in to find Phil chasing Dennis around the shop, clearly wanting to kill the little shit. And of course, Rhianna was there, laughing her bloody arse off, being of absolute no use to anyone.”

“Dennis was fine,” Rhianna said. “He didn’t need my help.”

“Oh, because Phil’s a muggle? Figured Dennis could just hex him and claim self-defence if the Ministry had an issue with it? I know some other people who think it’s a real laugh to rile up a muggle and watch them try to fight back. Maybe I should introduce you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What do you think, Ginny? You think Phil deserved it? Should I have just stood back and let my friends have a laugh at his expense?”

“Dennis said he was sorry, Astoria,” Rhianna said.

“He’s only sorry because I told him I’d curse his arms off if he ever stepped foot in the shop again.”

“And he’s stayed away, hasn’t he?”

“Funnily enough, Rhianna, I actually _like_ seeing my friends, at least when they’re not going out of their way to harass my boyfriend. If Dennis would just stop antagonising Phil, I would gladly let him come by any time, but he doesn’t listen, and you just keep encouraging him.”

“Right,” Ginny said. “I’m tired of you two arguing about this. Rhianna, give us a minute, will you?” Rhianna sighed, stood up, and sat down on a nearby bench. Ginny looked at Astoria. “Would you like to explain to me why your boyfriend and your friends apparently cannot get along?”

“Well, Rhianna told you what her and Phil’s issue is already. I don’t see why she makes a big deal about it though. He’s weird about it, but it’s not like he says anything to her. They mostly just glare at each other, or if Dennis is winding Phil up, Rhianna just laughs. Dennis says he’s homophobic, but I mean, imagine if Harry was living with some girl who you knew had fancied him. You’d be weird about it.”

“I’d feel real weird about it,” Ginny agreed.

“Well, Dennis says that Phil being uncomfortable with it means he’s a giant homophobe and I’m a terrible friend for not standing up for Rhianna. Phil’s known she’s gay for years, and they’ve been just _fine_ until now, so it’s not like he actually has a problem with her being gay. On top of that, Dennis keeps saying Phil only wants me for my body or whatever as if this is supposed to be news to me. That’s exactly what we agreed to—no feelings, just snogging. I’d be more bothered if he _didn’t_ just want my body.” 

“What does Phil think of Dennis?”

“Oh, he hates him. He tries really hard to pretend he doesn’t, partly because he knows I won’t let him kiss me if I think he’s being a git to Dennis, but I’m not dumb. And, again, imagine some girl kept making a big show of flirting with Harry in front of you. You’d want to curse her.”

“Honestly, I think I would have told you it’s me or Dennis by now.”

“Well, I’d pick Dennis, and they all know it. I don’t _love_ Phil, and it’s like Dennis and Rhianna have nothing better to do than gloat about it. Dennis I could put up with because he’s always a bit of a pest, but Rhianna’s been just as bad lately, and I can’t cope with it.”

“Can I try talking to Rhianna?”

“Sure, fine, whatever. Maybe you’ll have better luck convincing her to stop acting like a twat.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Ginny left Astoria, crossed the grass, and sat down next to Rhianna. 

“Hiya,” Rhianna muttered.

“I swear I won’t tell her, but do you still have feelings for Astoria? I’m just trying to figure out what’s actually going on here because you two never fight, and it’s the only guess I’ve come up with so far.”

“I am entirely confident that I don’t, thank Merlin. Do you have any idea how awkward that would be if I did? I wake up with her in my bed all the time, I do, usually with her halfway on top of me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Nightmares. She used to wake me up, but now she just comes and sleeps with me whenever she has them.”

“Oh.”

“Phil knows,” Rhianna said quietly. She sighed and slumped forward, face buried in her hands. 

“He knows what?”

“He came over the other morning because he wanted to surprise her with breakfast.” Rhianna was speaking slowly, as if each word was a struggle to get out. “My mam let him in, I guess. I was still asleep. Anyway, he checked her room, like, but she wasn’t there, so he came to mine to ask if I knew where she was. Mind, I was asleep and didn’t know he had come by, so when I woke up to a knock on my door, I just assumed it was my mam and said come in.”

“Oh no.” Ginny suddenly had a bad feeling she knew exactly where this story was going and why Phil thought Rhianna was going to “steal” his girlfriend.

“I honestly hadn’t really even noticed Astoria, but Phil definitely did, and he—well, he just sort of froze and stared at first, he did.” Rhianna’s accent was becoming more noticeable as she went. “It took me a minute to figure out what was even going on because I was barely awake, but he stormed out, proper tamping, and then my brain woke up. I threw clothes on, and he was halfway down the street by the time I caught up to him. I tried to explain, but he just completely lost it. Fuming, he was. He shouted a bunch of horrible things at me and proper shoved me, like. Hit the ground hard and dislocated my shoulder.” Rhianna massaged her shoulder again, as if thinking about it made it hurt. 

“Bloody hell.”

“My mam got him to calm down a bit—I think she must have used some sort of numbing charm—got us both inside and then tried to make us talk. It didn’t help at all. He just kept saying horrible things to me—traitor, homewrecker, slag, dyke. I tried to explain about Astoria’s nightmares, but he wasn’t getting it. He can’t. His idea of a nightmare is just showing up naked at school, like. He’s never lived through anything even a tiny fraction as awful as what Astoria has been through.”

“Did Astoria explain to him—?”

“Astoria doesn’t know, does she?”

“Wait, what?”

“She slept through it, innit. Shah’s given her potions to help her sleep when she’s having nightmares, so she was fast asleep the whole time.”

“But surely you _told_ her? And if not you, Phil.”

“She’d never forgive him, would she, Ginny? Not for hitting me, not for what he called me. He knows it just as well as I do.”

“So you’re just protecting him?” Ginny thought that sounded like one of the stupidest things she’d ever heard.

Rhianna sighed and looked up at Ginny. “Phil’s heart is already broken. There’s nothing to protect him from. Deep down, he knows I told him the truth, that there’s nothing like that between me and Astoria, and I think that hurts him so much more than if she was just cheating on him. They agreed they weren’t going to have feelings for each other—just snog and then break up when she leaves, innit—and Astoria has been true to her word. Phil hasn’t. The only reason she agreed was because she didn’t think Phil could possibly actually fall for her. She thought it was okay because she couldn’t hurt him. Mind, she can tell he’s hurting now, but she thinks it’s me and Dennis, like.”

“So you’re protecting Astoria, but why is Dennis—?”

“Being Dennis? I told him what Phil did, what he called me. Dennis has a lot less sympathy for Phil. He’s tamping, but I made him swear not to tell Astoria. So he just wants to make Phil’s life hell, and if he can get Astoria and Phil to break up while he’s at it, even better.”

“I think you need to tell Astoria.”

“Do you know how much work it’s been to convince Astoria to date at all? She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Always worrying about the risks, she is. She would rather bury herself in work and cut herself off from everyone than risk making a mistake and hurting someone. If she knows how Phil feels, I don’t think she’ll ever—”

“She deserves the truth, Rhianna. She doesn’t understand why her friends are acting like this, and it’s hurting _her_.”

Rhianna sighed and buried her face in her hands again. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to do it.”

“C’mon,” Ginny said, taking Rhianna’s hand, “I’ll help you.” Gently, Ginny led Rhianna back to where Astoria was sitting. “Astoria, Rhianna needs to tell you something. Do you think you can listen to the whole thing before you say anything?”

“Okay.”

Ginny sat down between the two of them, one hand still holding Rhianna’s and the other now holding Astoria’s hand too. Slowly, Rhianna recounted her story. Astoria managed to hold her tongue. When Rhianna told her how Phil had reacted, Astoria crushed Ginny’s hand so tightly that Ginny felt sharp sparks shooting up her arm. 

“You should have told me,” Astoria said, once Rhianna had finished her story. Rhianna had left out any mention of Phil’s feelings for Astoria.“You should have woken me up right then instead of going after him yourself. You do know you didn’t do anything wrong, don’t you, Rhianna? Even if we were actually having sex, you don’t have secret gay seduction powers. You can’t _trick_ me into sleeping with you. I could have just told him, and at least then he could have been yelling at the right person.”

“I shouldn’t have—” Rhianna started, then she looked away, struggling to get words out. “He’s not—” Ginny squeezed Rhianna’s hand. “He wasn’t upset because he thought we had sex, Astoria. Well, maybe at first, but he’s not upset about sex, is he? He’s upset because he—he—fuck, help me, Ginny.” Rhianna looked miserable. She couldn’t say it. 

“It’s not really my place to say,” Ginny said, “but I think what Rhianna’s trying to say is that Phil is jealous of how _close_ you two are. Because he has feelings for you.”

Astoria swore under her breath. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them slowly. “I have to break up with him. He should never have touched you, Rhianna. Absolutely no excuse. And then I’m just not gonna snog anyone except gay men and straight women.” Astoria smiled slightly, her best attempt at a joke. 

“Well, that’s a terrible plan,” Rhianna said.

“Is it though? I think it really opens my options, if I’m honest. I mean, Ginny, you’re straight, right?” Astoria grinned at her, and Ginny’s stomach did a flip. She felt her cheeks burn and jerked her hand away from Astoria’s. “It’s a joke, Gin.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said. She glanced over at Rhianna, who appeared to be fighting down a fit of laughter with one hand gripped tightly across her mouth. 

“We should call Dennis,” Astoria said. 

“Oh, don’t snog _him_ , like,” Rhianna said. Ginny shuddered at the thought. Astoria snogging Phil was weird enough to Ginny, but snogging Dennis would almost be as weird as Astoria snogging her _actual_ sister Daphne.

“Gross,” Astoria agreed, scrunching her nose up. “I meant we should invite him to watch _Star Wars_ with us.”

“Oh. Is he forgiven then?”

“I’m debating. Don’t push it. And don’t tell him I’m breaking up with Phil. I will stay with Phil just to spite you if you do.” 

“My lips are sealed.”


	6. Did you know this junkyard slave isn't even old enough to shave?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny goes to a muggle cinema for the first time to see Star Wars: The Phantom Menace with Astoria, Rhianna, and Dennis.

After they finished the last of their food and cleaned up, Astoria led them down the street. They stopped at a red booth that looked a lot like the visitor’s entrance at the Ministry. Astoria said it was called a telephone box. Muggles, she explained, could use it to instantly talk to each other anywhere in the world.

“I’ll ring him,” Rhianna said before she stepped inside. Astoria leaned against the side of the phone box.

“How’s muggle London?” Astoria asked Ginny. 

“Big,” Ginny said. She had never really realised just how many muggles there were. Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley were the biggest wizarding settlements she’d ever been to, and they felt inconsequential compared to this. The train she’d taken with Rhianna had been packed with muggles at every stop. The streets were all filled with people, and there were a lot of streets. “I think I can see why you like it.”

“Yeah?”

“No one knows who you are.”

“Don’t tell me Ginny Weasley, leader of Dumbeldore’s Army, quidditch captain, hero extraordinaire—”

“Oh, shut up.”

“—wants to be a nobody? Surely not!”

“Oh, yeah, I love _The Daily Prophet_ writing about my dating life.”

Astoria laughed. “How else am I supposed to keep up with your life?”

“I’m not the one who is always working, you know. Are you going to quit too?”

“Because of Phil? I can’t. Hopefully I just won’t have many shifts with him.”

The door of the phone box flung open. Rhianna swung her head out, still holding what Ginny assumed was the telephone. “Astoria,” Rhianna said, “Dennis wants to know your thoughts on Ricky Martin.” She rolled her eyes, and Astoria laughed.

“Just tell him yes.” Rhianna sighed and went back in the telephone box.

“Who’s Ricky Martin?” Ginny asked.

“Muggle pop star. He’s—”

“Dennis says that’s not good enough,” Rhianna said, peeking out again. “I think you need to talk to him.” Astoria sighed and stepped inside the telephone box. Rhianna stepped out and took Astoria’s spot leaning against the box. Curiosity got the best of Ginny, and she followed Astoria inside.

“Er, hi, Ginny,” Astoria said, but she smiled. It was a lot smaller inside than Ginny had been expecting—not at all like the ones at the Ministry—so she was practically nose to nose with Astoria.

“ _Ginny?_ ” A strange, distorted voice that sounded like Dennis cracked through the telephone in Astoria’s hand. “ _This Dennis, you knob_.” Ginny could only just barely hear him, which explained why Astoria was holding the thing up to her ear.

“Sorry,” Ginny said, cheeks pink. “I didn’t realise how small it was.” She went to step back out, but Astoria grabbed her wrist.

“I was talking to Ginny,” Astoria said into the telephone. She smiled at Ginny. “She thought this was a TARDIS.”

“A what?” Ginny asked, but Astoria shook her head. Laughter crackled through the telephone.

“Anyway, Dennis," Astoria said, "just get your arse over to the cinema. I can’t teach Ginny everything about muggle culture all by myself.”

“ _I’m not doing a damn thing until you tell me your full opinion on Ricky Martin_ ,” Dennis said.

“Like I told Rhianna, yes. A very enthusiastic yes. Yes, yes, and yes. I’m livin’ la vida loca. Now shut up before I have to put more money in.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Dennis moaned. “ _But you have to come pick me up. You know my mum won’t let me go out in London on my own_.”

“Right, get ready, and I’ll send Rhianna to pick you up.”

“ _I’m only coming if you come get me_.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“ _I need to be sure you’re not murderous before I confine myself to a dark cinema with you_.”

Astoria dug into her pocket, pulled out a coin, and shoved it into a slot on the wall of the telephone box. “Dennis, I swear on your mother’s grave—”

“ _Don’t you swear on her grave! Swear on your own mum’s grave, not mine_.”

“Fine, I swear on my own mum’s grave that if you do not come with Rhianna, I _will_ be murderous.”

“ _You don’t even like your mum!_ ”

“Can I?” Ginny said, holding out her free hand to Astoria. Astoria was still holding her wrist, absentmindedly running her thumb on Ginny’s skin—not that Ginny was going to complain. 

“Yeah,” Astoria said. She handed the telephone to Ginny, who immediately realised she had no idea how it worked. Astoria could tell and guided the telephone up to her face.

“Can you hear me, Dennis?” Ginny said, slightly louder than normal.

“ _Ginny? No, put Astoria back on. I’m trying to swindle her of all her loose change via payphone_.”

Astoria leaned forward to speak into what Ginny decided was probably called the mouthpiece. “I can still hear you, Dennis.” Ginny’s face felt hot with Astoria so close, and she leaned away from her.

“ _Ew, put Ginny back on_ ,” Dennis laughed.

“Stop being a pest, Dennis,” Ginny said. “Astoria is very sorry she was upset that you were being a twat. She understands now that’s just how you are, so she’s not going to murder you. Either you’re coming with us to this astronomy thing—”

“It’s called _Star Wars_ ,” Astoria said gently. 

“—or you’re not. I’ll give you three. Three, two—”

“ _Fine!_ ” Dennis said. “ _But only because I know Astoria is going to fail to properly teach you muggle culture otherwise._ ”

Astoria took the telephone back and held it to the side of her head. “Rhianna will pick you up in a bit," she said. "We’ll meet you in Wood Green.”

“ _Yeah, yeah, bye_.” Astoria hung the telephone back up on the wall of the telephone box.

“So that’s a telephone,” Astoria said casually. Ginny glanced down at her wrist, which Astoria still hadn’t let go of. “Oh, sorry.” She let go. 

“We should—” Ginny waved vaguely at the door.

“Yeah.” Ginny pushed the door open, and Astoria followed her out.

“He’s coming,” Astoria said to Rhianna. “You’re picking him up.”

“I figured," Rhianna said. "Wood Green?”

“Yeah, easier to get to from his.”

“Do you know the easiest way from here?”

“To the Creeveys? You can just come with us since we need to change trains at King’s Cross anyway.”

“You mean for platform nine and three quarters?” Ginny asked. King’s Cross was something she actually recognised.

“Oh, no, they seal that barrier unless there’s a train. Keeps muggles from accidentally falling through and getting stuck. There’s an out of order toilet on the muggle side that you can Apparate in and out of safely and legally though. Random dark alleys work too, but it’s always a bit riskier with how many muggles there are in London. You remember where it is, right, Rhianna?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, follow me then.”

Astoria led them through the muggle streets and down into another underground station. Baker Street Station. Astoria bought tickets. She tried to put Ginny’s ticket through for her, but Ginny insisted on trying it herself. It took her a couple tries to get the machine to take it, but it worked eventually, and Astoria and Rhianna clapped.

The train was hot and crowded, and Ginny was relieved when Astoria nudged her out at King’s Cross. Rhianna left to find the out of order toilet, and Astoria led Ginny through a maze of hallways Ginny was sure she would never remember and onto another train. The second train was much longer than the first, but it wasn’t as crowded, at least not after the first few stops. 

They got off at Wood Green, and Ginny was surprised, perhaps foolishly, to find nothing particularly woody or green about the place. Astoria led her across the street—there seemed to be some system for when cars or people could move, which Astoria seemed confident following—and into the lobby of a large building. They stood in a queue for a few minutes, and then walked up to what must have been a ticket booth.

“Four tickets for the next showing of _Star Wars_ please,” Astoria said. There was someone collecting tickets, and behind, a wall lined with food stands. Ginny recognised the popcorn machines. Astoria handed the person at the booth some muggle money and took the tickets. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Astoria pocketed the tickets and led Ginny back onto the street. Astoria pointed out everything from the lights that told cars and people who could go to the red buses, from black cars called taxis to a small shop she said was something called an internet cafe. Muggles had several kinds of money—coins, different kinds of paper, and plastic cards that Astoria explained let muggles instantly send money to someone else’s bank without needing to use the coins or paper. 

“You remind me of my dad,” Ginny said.

Astoria laughed. “Ouch.”

“No, I think it’s cute.”

“If only dear old Amycus could see me now, showing a Weasley around a muggle shopping district and explaining how credit cards work.”

“Do you think he reads _The Daily Prophet_? I could send _The Prophet_ an owl. This is front page news, you know. Our world needs to know about credit cards. I’m tired of carrying around all three of the knuts I own everywhere.”

“Ah, yes, the switch to a muggle currency system, led by Astoria Greengrass, famous solely for beating Ginny Weasley at quidditch and exactly nothing else.”

“I’m glad we could set aside our bitter quidditch rivalry at last.”

“Yeah, now you can support the most important cause of our generation: revolutionising the wizarding world’s currency system with credit cards.” Astoria laughed. “C’mon, Rhianna and Dennis should be here any minute. We always meet at the cinema.”

Sure enough, just as they were walking up to the cinema, a boy shrieked, and a blur of all black leapt off one of the red buses and launched straight into Astoria.

“Bloody hell, Dennis,” Rhianna laughed as she stepped off the bus. 

“Get off me,” Astoria said. She pushed Dennis away and looked him up and down. “No,” she said in disbelief. She reached out and mussed his hair. “You did _not_.” 

“You said you were livin’ la vida loca!” Dennis protested.

“You did not tell me you were picking out clothes,” Astoria laughed. 

“Do you have any idea what they’re bickering about?” Ginny asked Rhianna. Rhianna opened her mouth to reply, but Dennis was faster.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Dennis said. “What have you been teaching her if she doesn’t know Ricky Martin and Livin’ La Vida Loca? I knew you were bad, Astoria, but this is just unacceptable!”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Astoria laughed. “I was teaching Ginny about credit cards.”

“Credit cards? Astoria, you are the most boring person I have ever met. No one cares about credit cards.”

“Did you buy tickets already, Astoria?” Rhianna asked.

“Yeah,” Astoria said. 

“Okay, Astoria,” Dennis said, “are you or are you not loca about this look?” He gestured up and down his front. He was wearing black jeans and a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt. 

“Hold on,” Astoria said. She adjusted his collar so it stood up straight in the back and opened the front of his shirt more. “There, _now_ you’re Ricky Martin.”

“Ooooh, good thing Phil isn’t here to see you _touching_ me.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. 

“No Phil,” Rhianna said firmly. “I told you, Dennis.”

Dennis groaned.

“Did you use magic or do it the muggle way?” Astoria asked. She ran her hand through his hair again. It was short, much shorter than Dennis usually kept it, and the tips of his usually-brown hair were light blond.

“Magic,” Dennis said. “Mum wouldn’t let me use bleach.” He brushed his hair back into place. “I got a letter from the Ministry for doing it, of course, but I figure it’s my last summer before I’m of age anyway. It’s not like they were going to send me to Azkaban for colouring my hair once.”

“You used magic illegally just to colour your hair?” Ginny asked. 

“It’s _fashion_ , Ginny. The look wasn’t complete without the hair.”

“He’s right,” Astoria said. “Frosted tips are big right now.”

“You know what else is big right now?” Rhianna said. “Having time to actually get popcorn before the film. Which showing did you get tickets for?”

“Er,” Astoria said. She pulled out the tickets and checked her watch. “Yeah, we need to go. C’mon, Ricky.” Astoria pushed Dennis toward the cinema. 

Inside, they bought popcorn, drinks, and sweets. Dennis and Astoria had argued about which muggle sweet was the most important for Ginny to try, so they ended up with several kinds. Then Astoria led them into a mostly dark theatre that had some sort of massive portrait where there would usually be a stage. 

“It’s called a screen,” Astoria told Ginny as they sat down. “Just a blank wall, really, but there’s a machine in the back that puts images onto it.” Ginny turned to look at the back wall where Astoria was pointing. There was one bright spot of light which seemed to be where the machine was. “And then the sound is just from speakers in the walls. It’s all recorded ahead of time and then sent to cinemas just like this all around the world.”

Ginny watched the screen, fascinated at how it was possible without magic. It was showing adverts for other films, Astoria explained. Ginny could tell when the film was actually going to start though because even Dennis, sat on the other end of their group next to Rhianna, stopped fidgeting and focused his attention in on the screen.

Then a black screen with blue text appeared: _A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away_ … Dramatic music, and then _Star Wars_. Ginny had no idea what she was in for. A wall of text began scrolling across the screen. She was clueless as to what it all meant—Galactic Republic? Trade Federation? Naboo? Jedi Knights?—but she had too many questions and not enough time to ask.

“So, wait, they’re in the stars?” Ginny asked. 

“Whisper, Ginny,” Astoria whispered into her ear. “And yes.”

“Is that a _person_?” Ginny hissed. There were people-like _somethings_ with large eyes, no apparent nose, and skin that reminded Ginny of an ugly toad. They were speaking English and wore clothes like people, but they looked nothing like any humans Ginny had ever seen.

“He’s an alien. Like from a different planet.” 

Ginny kept firing off questions in Astoria’s ear as the film went. Her brief exposure to the muggle world hadn’t come close to preparing her for this. If muggle London had felt big, this world was simply unfathomably vast. Ginny couldn’t help but wonder how muggles could have dreamed up such a world—for surely it wasn’t _real_ , was it? Were there really all these other creatures—aliens, Astoria called them—living on planets like those they’d studied in astronomy class?

As the film went on, Ginny’s questions shifted from logistics to the story itself. Who was the hooded figure? Was that little boy Anakin really trying to _flirt_ with Padmé? Why did they just leave his mother like that? Would they go back and free her too? How could the Senate just sit back and let the Naboo be wiped out? Why wouldn’t the Jedi council trust Qui Gon about Anakin? Wait, Padmé was the _queen_ all along? And why did they bring Anakin on this trip? Wasn’t there somewhere safer they could have left him instead of in the middle of a battle? And why did all those droids have such terrible aim?

Then things started looking bad for the heroes. The droids had Padmé and the others. Anakin was in trouble. And Qui Gon was fighting Darth Maul alone, Obi Wan trapped behind some sort of barrier. Darth Maul smacked his lightsaber away and—

“No!” Ginny gasped along with Obi Wan. “He can’t really be—” She glanced at Astoria’s face and knew. Qui Gon was dead. Ginny didn’t know why it upset her so much—it was just a story, and characters died in stories all the time, didn’t they?—but her throat felt tight. She reached for Astoria’s hand and held on tight, as if crushing Astoria’s fingers would keep her from crying over some fictional old guy’s death. 

“Look,” Astoria whispered. The decoy queen had shown up, along with her guard, to rescue Padmé, the real queen. At least Padmé was okay, Ginny thought. Obi Wan was fighting Darth Maul now, and Anakin had power again. The droid army was dead—Ginny hadn’t quite understood that part—and Obi Wan defeated Darth Maul. Soon, there were celebrations in the street—they won the battle and saved Naboo from the Trade Federation. _Written and directed by George Lucas_ flashed across the screen, and the theatre filled with applause.

“Wait, that’s it?” Ginny asked. 

“For now,” Astoria said. “It’s a trilogy.” Some people in the theatre started to stand up.

“Ginny!” Dennis said, leaning over Rhianna so far he might as well have just climbed over her. “What’d you think? Did you like it? It’s good, isn’t it?”

“It was amazing,” Ginny said. 

“C’mon,” Rhianna said. She pushed Dennis back and stood up. “Let’s get out of the theatre so they can clean.”

Dennis continued to bombard Ginny with questions as they made their way back out to the street. He wanted to know what Ginny thought of _everything_ , but he hardly stopped firing off questions long enough for Ginny to actually respond. 

Somehow, despite Dennis’ torrent of questions, Rhianna managed to come up with a plan for the rest of the night. Soon, they were sitting together on a red bus, Dennis still chattering on about _Star Wars_ with Ginny while Rhianna and Astoria talked in the pair of seats behind them. It was a relatively short journey, and then they set off walking down muggle streets that had grown much more residential. 

“I’m home!” Dennis called as he flung open the door. 

“Oh!” Mrs. Creevey said from further in the house. Astoria slunk back behind Rhianna. There was a bit of shuffling and then Mrs. Creevey emerged, beaming, from the room straight ahead. She gave Dennis a tight hug. “Welcome home, sweetie.” She hugged Rhianna next. “Thank you for taking care of him, Rhianna.”

“It was just the cinema, mum.”

“Oh, Astoria, dear!” Mrs. Creevey spotted her and hugged her too, and Astoria turned pink. “It’s so good to see you.” Then her eyes fell on Ginny and she smiled. “And hello, Ginny.” Despite being good friends with Dennis’ brother Colin, Ginny had only met his parents a few times. She didn’t feel slighted to not have a hug too.

“C’mon,” Dennis said, “let’s go to my room.” He started up the stairs, and Astoria was quick to follow. 

“Astoria will be up in a minute,” Mrs. Creevey said. Ginny watched Astoria’s shoulders sink in defeat. “C’mon, dear.” She reached out a hand toward Astoria. Astoria sighed and stepped back down the stairs. Ginny tried to catch her eye to ask what was wrong, but Astoria just shook her head and followed Mrs. Creevey back into the other room.

“C’mon,” Dennis repeated. Rhianna followed him up the stairs, but Ginny hesitated. 

“How’s your internship going?” Mrs. Creevey asked in the other room. Ginny could hear her digging around a drawer. 

“It’s fine,” Astoria said. “Shah has been pushing me harder the past couple weeks, but I need it.”

“I hope she’s also giving you plenty of breaks.”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Oh, here we are. This is for you.”

“What? No, it’s fine, Mrs. Creevey. I can’t.” Ginny could hear Astoria stepping back. 

“I insist, Astoria.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Take it,” Mrs. Creevey said firmly. “If only to make me feel better.” Ginny wished she could see. What was Mrs. Creevey so adamant about giving Astoria? “Thank you.” Did that mean Astoria took it?

“I appreciate it, Mrs. Creevey.” Astoria sounded meek, far from her usual stubborn toughness. 

“Go on then, I’m sure Dennis has plenty he wants to show you.” Ginny realised too late that she needed to move. She had only just barely stepped onto the stairs when Astoria spoke: 

“What are you doing?” Ginny looked back at her. Astoria’s cheeks were pink and growing redder, and she hurriedly shoved something in her pocket. 

“What was that about?” Ginny asked. No use pretending she hadn’t been eavesdropping. Astoria was smarter than that. 

“Nothing.” Astoria brushed past Ginny and up the stairs without another word. Ginny just stood on the stairs for a couple minutes, staring after Astoria.


	7. Once you’ve had a taste of her, you’ll never be the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and friends hang out at the Creeveys' house.

“No, Rhianna,” Astoria laughed as Ginny stepped into Dennis’ room, “you have to move your hips more.”

It had been easy to find the right room—Ginny just followed the sounds of music. Dennis was watching some sort of moving picture on the front of a box, dancing along with the music. Astoria had her hands on Rhianna’s hips, trying rather unsuccessfully to get them to move like the people in the picture. Rhianna had her arms around Astoria’s neck, laughing along with the futile attempts to teach her to dance. 

“She’s hopeless, Astoria,” Dennis said. The picture kept changing to different places, like the film, and Ginny noticed a man dressed just like Dennis, right down to the blond tips in his hair. 

“You were once hopeless too, you know,” Astoria said. 

Dennis laughed, and then he noticed Ginny. “Ginny!” He ran over, grabbed her arm, and dragged her over to the screen and pointed. “ _That_ is Ricky Martin!”

“You look just like him,” Ginny said. 

“Hold on, you need to see the whole video.”

Dennis knelt down in front of the screen and pressed a button beneath it. The music stopped and everything suddenly seemed to be going backwards. Then Dennis pushed another button, and a car hit something and water spouted out everywhere. [The music started again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p47fEXGabaY). Trumpets, women in very short skirts dancing, and Ricky Martin singing. Dennis mimicked every movement the dancers made. Astoria tried to get Rhianna to follow the moves, but Rhianna just pushed her away. 

“Dance with Dennis,” Rhianna said. Dennis grabbed Astoria’s hands just like the dancers on the screen, and it turned out Astoria knew the dance moves just as well as Dennis. It was tame at first, but then Dennis’ hands were on Astoria, down her sides, along her thighs, Astoria’s hands guiding his all over her. Ginny understood why Phil hated Dennis. 

Rhianna waved her over. “Dennis has decided he wants to be a dancer,” she laughed quietly as Ginny sat down on the floor next to her. “Mostly because Astoria told him he danced like he had a leg locker jinx on.” 

“That’s a bit harsh,” Ginny said. She was trying not to look, but she couldn’t seem to do anything but watch Astoria. 

“Oh, no, he was worse than me a month ago, and I know I’m rubbish.” Ginny knew it was hypocritical, but she didn’t think Astoria should be letting Dennis touch her like that. It was one thing for Ginny—she’d always had boys’ hands all over her—but Astoria was supposed to be above that sort of thing. She always said boys were a waste of time. But now she was snogging boys and letting their hands touch whatever they wanted. Astoria _said_ she wasn’t sleeping with Phil but—

Ginny shook herself. Astoria deserved to feel good. It was a good thing, Ginny reminded herself, if Astoria was actually doing something for herself. She was smart enough to make those choices on her own. Even if Ginny felt weird about it. Like super weird. Like struggling against an impulse to get up and pull Dennis’ hands off Astoria weird. 

The song ended, and another followed. Astoria and Dennis seemed to know all the dancing for this one too. 

“Ginny, c’mon, come dance!” Dennis said. For a brief moment, Ginny saw her own hands where Dennis’ had been, and her face flushed.

“It’s okay,” Ginny said. “I’ll pass.” 

“Rubbish,” Dennis said. “Go on, Astoria, teach her.” Dennis shoved Astoria toward Ginny. Astoria rolled her eyes but smiled at Ginny. 

“May I have this dance?” Astoria said in her poshest voice. She gave a small bow and held out her hand to Ginny. Ginny laughed at the formality, surprising even herself, and took Astoria’s hand. 

They’d danced together before, but this was different. Ginny had never heard muggle music before, and it was just different enough that Ginny felt like she was always one step behind. Astoria could tell, but she just took Ginny’s hands, her shoulders, her hips and guided her along. Astoria knew the dances, the rhythms, the lyrics to every song that played. If Ginny hadn’t known better, she might have thought Astoria was muggleborn. 

“Oh, Astoria, this one’s for you!” Dennis laughed as [another song began](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJLIiF15wjQ). 

“What?” Astoria said. “Why?”

“Oh, Dennis, don’t,” Rhianna said. 

“C’mon, Rhianna,” Dennis said. He dragged her up. “ _I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_ ,” he sang. 

“ _So tell me what you want, what you really, really want_ ,” Astoria sang back. By the next line, Rhianna joined in. Dennis grabbed Ginny’s hand, and then they were all in a circle, dancing around, the three of them belting out every line while Ginny did her best to follow along. 

The chorus hit, and Dennis kicked out at Astoria playfully, making sure she knew _this_ was the line for her. “ _If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends_.” Astoria rolled her eyes at Dennis so hard Ginny thought her eyes might get stuck that way, but she was laughing along. “ _Make it last forever, FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS!_ ” They all nearly screamed that line, as if it was some communal patronus they were casting together, fighting off darkness with friendship. By the time the song was over, Ginny had found herself swept up in the excitement, belting out the half-learnt chorus with the rest of them. 

Dennis made the song repeat several times, each time all of them growing more and more giggly and hooked on the song’s unapologetic celebration of friendship. The women in the band all had nicknames—Sporty, Posh, Ginger, Scary, and Baby—and the other three had fierce opinions on all of them. Astoria thought Scary was the best of them all, Rhianna clearly fancied Posh, and Dennis thought Ginger was the worst because she’d apparently left the band. Ginny decided she just wanted Sporty’s arms. 

Finally after one last run of the song, Astoria slipped away from their giggling group hug and threw herself face down on Dennis’ bed. 

“Astoooooria,” Dennis whined, but Rhianna shushed him and held him back. 

“Tired,” Astoria mumbled into the sheets. Ginny decided she’d had enough of singing about friendship too, so she climbed on the bed and laid down on Astoria’s back. 

“I win,” Ginny teased, chin resting on Astoria’s shoulder. 

“‘M ‘sleep.”

“I still win.”

“Nope. Sleepin’s winnin’.”

“What if I’m asleep too?”

“Y’talk a lot for someone who’s ‘sleep.” Ginny could hear Astoria’s smirk even through the sheets muffling her voice. Ginny laughed and let herself relax into the rhythm of Astoria’s slow breathing. Another song was playing now. Dennis and Rhianna were debating which outfits they liked best. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Ginny asked quietly. Astoria shifted beneath her. Ginny propped herself up momentarily so Astoria could turn over more easily. 

“I can Apparate, you know,” she said, now looking up at Ginny. 

“I know, but it’s easier to splinch yourself when you’re tired.”

Astoria smiled. “I’m _always_ tired, Ginny.”

“Oh, well, in that case, splinch away.”

“Oh, shut up,” Astoria said. She put her arms around Ginny’s back and pulled her back down on top of her. “I win.”

Ginny, not one to concede that easily, opened her mouth and pressed her teeth into Astoria’s shoulder.

“Are you trying to _bite_ me?” Astoria laughed.

Ginny wasn’t really biting—Astoria still had her jacket on, and Ginny had only barely pressed hard enough for Astoria to feel it. 

“I thought you’d be sweeter,” Ginny teased when she let go of Astoria’s shoulder. Astoria relaxed her grip on Ginny. 

“That’s my jacket, Ginny,” Astoria said. She grinned. “For your information though, I happen to be very sweet.” 

“Oh, really?” Ginny shifted, holding herself up just enough to grin back down at Astoria. 

“Course I am. Everyone knows that. Astoria Greengrass, world’s sweetest person.”

“‘Everyone’ have been wrong before.”

“Have they now?” Ginny knew Astoria was daring her, pushing her, trying to get Ginny to be the first to back down. But Ginny never backed down.

“I think I’d rather decide for myself.” 

“Oh?” Astoria’s eyebrow shot up. “What are you gonna do? Bite my face?” 

“Maybe.” Ginny bared her teeth and gnashed them, leaning in so Astoria’s nose was just barely out of reach of her teeth. Astoria laughed and rolled her head away. Rookie mistake. Ginny seized her opportunity and pressed her teeth gently onto Astoria’s neck. Astoria screamed and pushed weakly at Ginny, still laughing.

“You _bit_ me!” 

“Bite harder, Ginny!” Dennis cheered. Ginny looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. Rhianna smacked Dennis on the arm and turned him back toward the screen. Ginny looked back down at Astoria.

“You’re the one who said I should bite you,” Ginny teased.

“Did not.”

“Well, you’re clearly not fighting me very hard, Astoria.”

“I’m _tired_.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Shah’s. It’s always her fault.”

Ginny snorted. “You have never slept a full night in your _life_ , Astoria.”

“And I was never tired from it until Shah decided I needed to be quizzed first thing every morning. It’s as if she expects me to be a _good_ Healer or something.” 

“Good? Doesn’t she know you have to be the best in all of history?”

“You sound like my mum.” Ginny had only one response for an insult like that: she lunged forward and bit down for real this time on the side of Astoria’s face. Astoria screamed again and squirmed and pushed with much more force than before. “ _Ginny Weasley_!”

“Oh, so I’m not your mum now?”

“Shut up. Fine. Sorry. No, my mum has never bitten me.”

“Merlin, I hope not. Doesn’t she have fangs?” Ginny wouldn’t normally rag on her friend’s mums, but Astoria’s mum was different. She’d disowned her daughter when the truth about Astoria’s loyalties came out, and she’d been terrible to Astoria for years before anyway. Astoria had hated her as long as Ginny had known Astoria.

“Don’t be mean. Plenty of people with fangs are perfectly lovely, Ginny.”

“Please pass along my apologies to all your lovely vampire friends.”

“Will do. So are you done biting me now?”

“I haven’t decided how sweet you are yet.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “You are sweet, but you said world’s sweetest. I think I’m going to have to test more to decide that.”

“Oh? Going to go bite someone else’s face off now?”

“Of course not.” 

Astoria sighed dramatically and threw her arms and head back. “Do your worst.” She gave her best defeated look, but Ginny could see her fighting to hold back a laugh. 

“So I win.” 

“On account of how exhausted I am, yes, you win for the first time ever.”

“Huh. It’s a bit boring, if I’m honest. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well, if you’re done taking bloody samples of my face, I’m going back to sleep.” Astoria closed her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching as she tried to hide her smile. Ginny lowered her face to Astoria’s neck but hesitated. “Bloody hell, Ginny,” Astoria sighed. “You don’t give up, do you?” Astoria moved her arms, and Ginny thought she was about to push her away again, but she just wrapped her arms around Ginny and pulled her the rest of the way down. “I am asleep,” she said firmly, and Ginny gave in.

“Sleeping.” Ginny closed her eyes. She could feel Astoria’s heartbeat—fast but slowing down. Ginny wondered if Astoria would sleep better with her there, if she could somehow hold off Astoria’s nightmares like Rhianna could—and if Astoria could stave off Ginny’s. 

“Ginny,” Astoria said softly, shaking her shoulder gently. Ginny had fallen asleep. How long had it been?

“Mm?” Ginny lifted her head from Astoria’s shoulder and looked at her. 

“I think we need to let Dennis have his bed back.” There was no way Rhianna could be gay and _not_ fancy Astoria, Ginny thought, not actually hearing her. How could she possibly wake up to _this_ and not feel anything?

“Hi,” Ginny breathed. Ginny reached up and touched Astoria’s jaw. It used to be rare to see Astoria without her jaw clenched. Ginny definitely preferred this Astoria, relaxed and no longer so guarded.

“Er, hi, Ginny.” Astoria gave her a bemused smile. Ginny traced her fingers along Astoria’s smile. “Are you going to bite me again?” 

“Do you want me to?” Astoria’s lips were so soft. 

“Do I—Merlin, Ginny.” Astoria rolled her eyes and pushed Ginny off her.

Astoria stood up and Ginny was left with a jolt in her chest that felt a lot like stepping through one of the vanishing steps at Hogwarts. She could have sworn there was a step there. She could hear Astoria’s careful footsteps.

"C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Astoria whispered.

Ginny glanced over. Astoria was now knelt beside Dennis and Rhianna, who had both fallen asleep on the floor, leaning on each other. She pulled Dennis’ arms around her neck and picked him up. Ginny realised she was in the way and got up.

“Get the sheets for me, will you, Gin,” Astoria said,

“Oh, yeah," Ginny said, "sorry.”

Ginny pulled Dennis’ sheets down, and Astoria laid him down gently on his bed. She pulled the sheets back over him and tucked him in as if he was far younger than sixteen. Astoria bent over, kissed his forehead, and then walked back to Rhianna who was sitting on the floor, rubbing her eyes. 

“Awake?” Astoria asked.

“Mostly,” Rhianna said.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I’m fine. You should get home so you can sleep.”

“I can take her,” Ginny offered. “I’m wide awake.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” Rhianna said, “but I’m really fine.” Astoria helped Rhianna to her feet.

“Get the light when you leave, will you?” Astoria said to Rhianna as she grabbed her bag. And then Astoria was out the door, tiptoeing down the hall and down the stairs. Ginny hesitated.

“Go,” Rhianna said, “I’m fine, I promise.” She waved Ginny out the door, and Ginny hurried down the stairs, as quiet as she could, after Astoria.

“Astoria, wait,” she hissed. Astoria spun, wand already in hand. Ginny caught up to her and looked at her, as if she’d somehow find her words in Astoria’s eyes.

“Er, I just wanted to say, er, thanks.” Thanks? That was stupid. “I mean, er—”

“It was good to see you too, Ginny.” Astoria smiled and put her hand on Ginny’s arm. Ginny looked down at Astoria’s hand.

“Oh, shit, your clothes.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can come with you.”

Astoria smirked. “Subtle. Sure, you ready?” Astoria let go of Ginny’s arm and held out her own forearm. Ginny nodded, took Astoria’s forearm, and the Creeveys’ house disappeared with a crack. 

A moment later she and Astoria were standing at Rhianna’s front door. Without a word, Astoria unlocked the door, stepped inside, and headed off to her room. Ginny changed back into her work clothes in the toilet and then knocked on Astoria’s door.

“It’s unlocked,” Astoria said. Ginny opened the door and stepped into the doorway. Astoria had changed into her night clothes and was carefully placing clean clothes into her bag. “Hamper is over there.” She pointed without looking. Ginny put Astoria’s borrowed clothes in the hamper. Astoria closed her bag and her closet and set her bag down neatly by the door. 

Ginny was reminded once again how very contradictory Astoria was. On one hand, precise, neat, painstakingly orderly. Her bedroom was spotless. Her façade during the war had not the slightest crack. Every single movement, word, tone, twitch was perfectly calculated. And on the other hand— 

“I really hope you do not actually plan on sleeping with me with that absurd uniform on, Ginny,” Astoria said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. 

“What?” Ginny cursed her voice for jumping up an octave. At least the room was dim enough that Astoria probably couldn’t see her blush. 

“I said you need to take that sandpaper monstrosity off before you climb on top of me.” Even in the dim light, Ginny could see Astoria’s amused smirk, eyebrow raised, enjoying far too much the rise she’d gotten out of Ginny. Brat.

“Well, now you’re just being crude on purpose.” 

“No, crude would be me offering to take your clothes off you myself.” 

“Bloody hell, Astoria.” 

“Of course, you couldn’t pay me to touch that fabric.”

“Five galleons.” 

Astoria snorted. “Now who’s being crude?”

“Can’t let you have all the fun.”

“Bloody hell, Ginny. I’m going to sleep. As you’ve invited yourself over under the most pathetic pretense I’ve ever heard, yes, sure, you can stay, but either you’re sleeping on the floor, or you need to take that terrible fabric off. Grab something out of my closet if you want, I don’t care.”

“It was not a pretense. I was just—”

“Bringing by clothes that you could have perfectly well given to Rhianna since you both work in Diagon Alley, yes, I know. Look, I love you, Ginny, and I love the banter, but I am absolutely knackered, okay? I’m going to sleep. Do whatever you please.”

Astoria waved the light out, set her wand down, and climbed into bed. Ginny hesitated. Of course Astoria was right—she’d jumped at the excuse to come over. She didn’t want to say goodbye. She just wanted more and more time with Astoria, who’d already taken time off just to be with her for an evening. Ginny was being selfish. She needed to let Astoria sleep. 

“Good night,” Ginny whispered, and then she left the room and closed the door behind her. Her stomach ached. Ginny ignored it and walked quietly back down stairs. She hesitated again in the entry, but then she shook herself and she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Livin’ La Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin (1999): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p47fEXGabaY  
> "Wannabe" by Spice Girls (1996): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJLIiF15wjQ


	8. Pissing the night away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long week, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville have a night out and see someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: alcohol abuse, homophobic bullying, use of homophobic slur, brief physical violence (not graphic)

> Friday, 30 July 1999. Evening. Harry’s flat.

“Hey, Ginny,” Harry said as he walked into the kitchen. He bent over and gave her a quick kiss and then slumped into the seat next to her. He looked like hell—exhausted and frazzled, worse than any other time she’d seen him all summer. Neville and her brother Ron came in after him, looking just as beat, and said their hellos. 

“How was work?” Ginny asked. She hadn’t seen Harry much the past week. He had been swamped with work all week. They’d only seen each other briefly when he stopped by the Burrow on his way to work Monday morning.

“Slow,” Harry groaned. 

“Rubbish,” Ron added. He opened the fridge and hung on the door for a moment, staring blankly inside.

“Fine,” Neville said as he put the kettle on. He leaned against the counter and let his head hang back. The three of them had been fast-tracked into the Auror program after the war. Once they’d had their first paychecks, they’d gotten a flat together too. Harry had Sirius' house still, but he’d never gotten around to cleaning. Ginny suspected he was avoiding it.

“You seen Hermione?” Ron asked, already stuffing his face with an old sandwich he’d found. 

“Still at the office, I think,” Ginny said. 

“I’ll send her an owl.” Ron left, still stuffing his face. 

“Do you wanna come get dinner with us, Ginny?” Neville asked. “Ron wants to go to The Leaky Cauldron.”

“Neville wants to go to The Leaky Cauldron,” Harry said, smirking. “Ron just wants to go anywhere with cheap food and plenty of drinks.”

“You’ve just described The Leaky Cauldron, Harry.” Neville folded his arms, grinning. Hannah Abbot worked at The Leaky Cauldron, and Harry and Ron insisted Neville fancied her. Neville neither confirmed nor denied it. 

“I don’t mind,” Ginny said. “George has been giving me more shifts anyway.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Harry said. “My treat.” Ginny tried not to be annoyed. He was trying to be nice, she reminded herself. He had a good job and a vault full of inheritance. Ginny had piecemeal shifts at her brother’s shop—whenever he could afford a mediocre employee—and not a single knut to inherit. She still didn’t like Harry constantly paying for everything.

Ron walked back into the kitchen. “Right, sent her an owl. You lot ready?”

“I’ve only just put the kettle on,” Neville said. 

“Well, put it off. I’m starved. They’ve tea there.”

“Tea, _and_ I hear they’ve hired a pretty girl to serve it,” Harry said. Neville rolled his eyes, but he took the kettle off the stove. 

“Go on then, Ron,” Neville said. “You’re blocking the door.”

They found a table in the corner. Ron grabbed a round of butterbeer and a bowl full of chips, both of which Ginny knew would hardly last. 

“Have fun the other night?” Harry asked Ginny after he’d taken a swig of his butterbeer. “George said you went out with friends.”

“Oh, yeah, it was good.” Ginny felt her ears reddening. Had Harry come by to see her? “Rhianna took me out to muggle London.” It wasn’t a lie, Ginny told herself. Rhianna did take her there, even if the whole point had been to see Astoria. Harry still didn’t know she was friends with Astoria, and it didn’t seem like the right time to tell him. It never did. _Does Harry know you’re hanging out with a Death Eater?_

“Muggle London?” Ron asked. “Bloody hell, don’t tell dad. He’ll never stop asking you questions.”

“What on earth is there to do in muggle London?” Harry laughed. Ginny thought it was a bit absurd for Harry of all people to scoff at the muggle world. He’d grown up in it. He knew perfectly well that muggles had plenty of interesting things to do.

“We saw a—I think it’s called a film?” Ginny said. 

“Oh, you went to the cinema?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never been.” 

“We saw something called _Star Wars_. It was amazing. You should see it some time, Harry. I bet you’d like it.” 

“Muggles? Amazing?” Ron said with a laugh. “Now you really sound like dad.” _You remind me of my dad_. Ginny’s stomach twisted. 

“Nothing wrong with being friendly with muggles.”

“Yeah, but you can’t use magic around them.”

As if to demonstrate his point, Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at his pint. Throwing his head back, he levitated the rest of his butterbeer straight out of the glass and into his mouth. Harry pounded his fist on the table, counting Ron down as he chugged.

“Can’t do that with muggles, can you?” Ron said when he’d finished the last of his pint.

“You don’t need magic to down a pint, Ron," Ginny said. 

“Race you.”

“Merlin’s pants.”

“Hold on, I’ll get us fresh pints. You chug yours faster without magic, and I’ll concede that maybe you and Dad aren’t absolute nutters for your muggle obsession.”

“I am not obsessed with muggles, Ron.”

“Harry, Neville, when’s the last time you went for a night out with muggles?”

“Never,” Harry said. “Dursleys never would have let me have a night out, even if I wanted one.”

Neville just shrugged.

“See, Gin?” Ron said. “Nutter.” He stood up and walked back to the bar. 

“That bad at work, is it?” Ginny asked. Ron was clearly wound up and restless. Ginny hoped Hermione would show up soon. Ginny really didn’t want to be her brother’s only outlet all night.

“Lot of paperwork,” Harry said. 

“Wouldn’t have been so bad if you two hadn’t been putting all of it off for weeks,” Neville pointed out.

“Oh, Hermione, there you are,” Harry teased. Neville laughed. “Did you cut your hair? Something looks different.”

“Grew a beard, actually.” Neville ran a hand along his jaw. 

“It suits you, Hermione,” Ginny laughed. In truth, Neville’s beard did suit him. It was short, clean, and groomed. He looked like a proper adult with it. Not at all like the small animal that had been living on Harry’s face when she got off the train last month. Thankfully, Harry had taken to shaving again. He was easy enough to motivate—Ginny refused to kiss him until he’d gotten rid of the thing.

“Thanks, Ginny. I hope Ron likes it.” Neville batted his eyes at Ron as he returned with two more pints. He slammed one down in front of Ginny, sat down with the other, and took out his wand.

“Ready?” Ron said. Ginny sighed. She knew Ron was not going to relent, and Ginny was rarely one to turn down a challenge—especially not such an easy opportunity to best her brother. She grabbed the pint and lifted it up.

“Cheers," she said.

“You two make sure she doesn’t use any magic. And one of you tell us when to go.”

“No magic, Ginny,” Harry laughed.

“I don’t need magic to out-drink this lightweight,” Ginny said. 

“Right, ready?”

“Ready,” Ginny and Ron said together. 

“Aaaand…GO!” Ginny tossed back her pint and chugged without even bothering to look at Ron and his flashy waterworks. Harry and Neville pounded their fists on the table, cheering and counting Ginny and Ron down. 

_Thwack!_ Ginny slammed her pint down and smirked. Ron’s hand slipped, and the last of his butterbeer spilled all over him. “Doesn’t look like you’re fit to use magic, Ron,” Ginny said. “Ready to concede?”

“Course not," Ron said.

“Merlin, Ronald,” Hermione said as she walked up to their table. “ _Scourgify!_ ” 

“Dammit, Hermione,” Ginny said. “You should have let him wear his shame.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron said. He kissed Hermione and flipped Ginny off. 

“Classy, Ron.”

He summoned a seat from nearby and gestured for Hermione to sit beside him.

“Have you ordered food yet?” Hermione asked.

“Just chips,” Ron said. “Figured we could wait for you.” Hermione smiled at that. Ron was always hungry when he got off work, and he never waited for anyone. Hermione was a sucker for any mildly thoughtful thing Ron might do. Of course, he’d already had a sandwich and emptied the bowl of chips. Ginny thought that hardly counted as waiting.

“Do you all know what you want? I can go order for us. I need a drink anyway. Work was mad.”

Harry, Neville, and Ron all chimed in with their orders—burger, fish and chips, roast dinner.

“I’ll go with you,” Ginny said. “I want to look at a menu.”

“A menu?” Ron laughed. “It’s a pub, Ginny.” Ginny ignored him and walked with Hermione up to the bar. She grabbed a menu and looked through while Hermione ordered the rest of the food. 

“I’ll, er, just have an order of chips and beans,” Ginny said. 

“Not eating meat?” Hermione asked. Ginny shrugged. She knew it was dumb. She didn’t even know why she wasn’t. “Astoria’s worn off on you.” Hermione smiled slightly and handed over the money for their order. 

“I saw her the other day, actually.” The knot in Ginny’s stomach loosened slightly. 

“Oh?” Hermione took her change. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her since school. You know how busy she is.”

“I’m glad you got to see her.” _For your information, I happen to be very sweet._ Ginny blushed. She hoped Hermione didn’t notice. “I hope she’s doing well.” The barman handed Hermione the glass of wine she’d ordered. “Thank you.” Hermione walked back to their table, and Ginny followed. 

“He’s in looooove,” Ron teased after Hannah had left. As expected, she was working tonight, and she’d brought their food once it was ready. Ron and Harry had only barely held their tongues, blatantly sniggering the entire time she was here. Neville had blushed furiously, exchanging tame, friendly words with Hannah.

“Not coming home tonight, is he, Ron?” Harry said. 

“It’s not like that,” Neville protested. 

“We all saw how she looked at you,” Harry said. “Right, Hermione?”

“I saw it,” Hermione said. 

“Neville is gonna pull tonight,” Ron said, clapping him hard on the shoulder. 

“Shut up,” Neville said. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“He’s in looooooooove,” Ron said again.

Ginny usually would have joined in on winding Neville up with Harry and Ron, but her stomach was too knotted. Ginny looked at her chips and beans, looking as pathetic as Ginny felt. Skipping the burger was supposed to make her feel better, to assuage her guilt, as if some small act of solidarity with Astoria could make up for everything else. Instead, it was just a reminder of Ginny’s own cowardice. Only one thing to do: Ginny downed the rest of her butterbeer and slammed the glass down on the table.

“Less talking, more drinking, Ron,” Ginny said. “You’re falling behind.” She grabbed his pint, finished it, and shoved the glass back at him. Harry and Neville howled with laughter. 

“That’s weak stuff anyway,” Ron scoffed. 

“Don’t you encourage him,” Hermione scolded Ginny, but she was laughing too. “I don’t want to carry him home again.”

“Fine, you can carry Harry this time,” Ginny said.

“Now hang on,” Harry protested. “Don’t you go lumping me in with Ron. I can hold my drinks.”

“Can you now?” Neville said. “Because I seem to remember you getting sick all over the kitchen last Saturday, Harry.”

“I’m telling you, it was the fish. Didn’t sit right with my stomach.”

“You mean the _alcohol_ didn’t sit right,” Hermione teased.

“Only one way to settle this,” Neville said, standing up.

“Chatting up Hannah?” Ron laughed.

“It’s none of your business if or who I’m chatting up.” 

“C’mon, mate, you gotta stop beating around the bush so you can start beating around _her_ bush.”

“ _Ronald!_ ” Hermione whacked his shoulder. Neville, face redder than a tomato, disappeared toward the bar, while Harry and Ron howled with laughter. 

“Don’t worry, Hermione. Yours is the only bush for me.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed away.

“Bloody hell, I’m not drunk enough for this.” Hermione took a long drink of her nettle wine and set the glass down. Then, as if she hadn’t just pushed him away, she kissed Ron. 

“Don’t encourage him, Hermione,” Ginny teased back. Ron flipped her off again.

Ginny soon lost count of how many drinks they’d all had. Ron was completely pissed, but Hermione was drunk too and laughing too loudly at all his bad jokes, hands all over him, just barely polite enough to still hold a conversation with Neville. Harry, meanwhile, had given up on talking to their friends and was focused entirely on Ginny, his uncoordinated hands and lips urging Ginny to leave. Ginny thought she deserved an award for ignoring him. Harry—and her body—could stand to wait a little longer for Neville’s sake. He needed all the help he could get, or he’d lose his nerve again before the end of Hannah’s shift. 

And so it was that they were all very much drunk and distracted when Ron spotted him. Ron pointed, too drunk for subtlety, and they all looked. Slipping into a small table on the other side of the room was a young man Ginny didn’t recognise and one she did: Draco Malfoy. She hadn't seen him in over a year. He looked even more ill than he had under the Carrows—eyes sunken, ghostly skin tight over his cheekbones, overgrown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, once-perfect clothes looking worn and frayed—but he was smiling. 

“Fat lot of nerve he’s got,” Neville said, “showing his face in a place like this.” Malfoy was the one who let the Death Eaters in, the one who handed their school to monsters. Even the other Slytherins hated him. Malfoy must have sensed their eyes on him because he looked over. Even from across the room, Ginny could see his whole body tense, but then he turned his head and smiled again at the man across from him. 

“Shame we saved his life,” Ron laughed. 

“Harry saved his life,” Hermione corrected.

“Wonder who his mate is,” Harry said, sitting up, all his focus now on Malfoy, Ginny forgotten entirely. Good to know where Harry’s priorities were, Ginny thought irritably.

“Should we find out?” Neville said. His face was dark. Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked taken aback—Neville was usually the calmer, more reasonable one. But Ginny knew. The others hadn’t lived through the Carrows. They knew it was bad, but they never lived through the hell Malfoy, by way of the Carrows, had wrought upon Hogwarts. They hadn’t spent day after day hearing the screams that echoed around every corner of the castle. 

“He’s not worth it,” Ginny said. She put her hand on Neville’s shoulder. He looked at her, considering. Maybe it was more kindness than Malfoy deserved, but Ginny wasn’t up for a bloody pub brawl, nor would it do Neville any good to start a fight in The Leaky Cauldron. Better to pretend he doesn’t exist than let him ruin their perfectly good night. Even better if Harry would stop staring at Malfoy and return his attention to Ginny.

“He’s not worth the air he breathes,” Neville said bitterly. He sunk back into his seat, backing down from the fight but eyes still on Malfoy. 

“Bet it’s just his boyfriend anyway,” Ron said, smirking. Across the room, Malfoy rubbed his own shoulder. _It’s okay if you’re, you know, not okay with it._

“Oh, please, Ronald,” Hermione said. “Only you would go on a date looking that raggedy.”

“Maybe raggedy is all the rage right now for poofs, Hermione,” Harry said. “How would you know? You been hanging around poofs without telling us?” That got a roar of laughter out of Ron. Ginny's stomach twisted, reminding her that she would roared right with him just days ago. 

“I wonder what they’re doing here. Malfoy never goes out.” 

“Knows he can’t show his face,” Neville said. “Shame no one drunker has let him know he’s still not welcome in public.”

“I can be drunker,” Harry said. “Another round? We can toast to the slimy git losing the war.”

“Here, here!” Ron cheered, a bit too loudly, as Harry left to order everyone more drinks. 

Drinking more was the wrong choice, but Ginny downed her drink with the rest of them. Whether she was drinking for courage or simply to drown out the guilt ripping through her stomach, she didn’t know. 

It all happened so quick. One moment, they were laughing together at a story Hermione had told. The next, Neville was on his feet. Across the room, Malfoy had his hand on Hannah’s arm, stopping her for the briefest of moments. Neville lost it, striding furiously across the room, as the other four scrambled to follow and Hannah disappeared into the kitchen.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Neville spat, wand in Malfoy’s face. 

“Neville, don’t,” Ginny said, yanking his wand arm down. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The other man was on his feet, jumping between Neville and Malfoy.

“Leave it,” Malfoy said. He reached for the other man’s arm, but the man shook him off.

“Wow, Malfoy, got yourself a boyfriend,” Ron sneered. He had his wand out too. 

“Let’s just go,” Malfoy said, eyeing the five of them. He stood up and took the other man’s hand, but Harry had stepped around to the other side, blocking their exit. “Excuse me, Potter.”

“Neville was talking to you,” Harry said. “Don’t be rude.” Ginny didn’t like the look on Harry’s face or the wand in his fist.

“ _This_ is Potter?” The other man said, looking at Harry with disgust. 

“Please,” Malfoy said. He still hadn't drawn a wand.

“Harry, let it go,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, Potter,” the man said, “listen to your girlfriend.”

“That’s _my_ girlfriend, you git,” Ron said. 

“Just stay away from Hannah,” Neville said, stepping in closer, “or I’ll—”

“Neville,” Ginny said more firmly, putting herself between him and Malfoy. Neville was supposed to be the reasonable one. Ginny’s temper, dangerously bubbling in a swirl of alcohol, guilt and shame, needed Neville to be the reasonable one. Ginny didn’t want to find out what she’d do when she couldn’t hold her temper any longer.

“Get over yourself, Longbottom,” Malfoy said. Ginny could see his patience was running thin too. “I’m not after your girl.” 

“Course not. Can’t bend over for one, can you?” Ron spat.

The man lunged for Ron, but Harry was faster, blasting him across the room with a spell. Malfoy’s wand was out in a flash, but he ran to the man and knelt beside him, checking for injuries. The pub had fallen silent, watching. Ginny stepped in front of Harry and Ron.

“Are you two done being prats now?” she said irritably. “Put your bloody wands away.”

“I’m being a prat, am I?” Harry spat. His breath reeked of alcohol.

“Yes, you are.” But Harry wasn’t listening to her. The man was back on his feet, and Harry shoved Ginny out of the way, wand pointed at their faces.

“Potter, please,” Malfoy said again. His wand was gone, hands held up in submission.

Ginny pushed Ron out of her way and got back between them, facing Harry. She reached for his wand, but he held it above her, out of reach, still pointed at Malfoy and the man with him, never taking his eyes off them.

“Harry!” She said. But Ginny had stopped existing to Harry from the moment Malfoy had walked in.

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said to Malfoy darkly, “ever put your filthy faggot hands—” _Crack!_ Harry’s glasses shattered as Ginny’s fist collided with his nose. He flew backwards, his skull crashing loudly into the table behind him before he crumbled onto the ground. 

“I said leave them alone,” Ginny spat at Harry. For a moment, the world was silent, frozen, every eye in The Leaky Cauldron on Ginny, seething as she looked down at him. And then Malfoy and the other man brushed past her and left. Before anyone could say anything else, Ginny followed them to the door and stepped out, alone, into the muggle world.


	9. Now I’m a satellite of a free state

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fight in The Leaky Cauldron, a drunk and angry Ginny runs off into muggle London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: bodily fluids (vomit), drunkenness

Ginny didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t care that she didn’t blend in. She just walked, stumbling every so often as the alcohol made her sway. She turned down this street and that, winding her way through London, desperate to put distance between herself and The Leaky Cauldron. 

Eventually, she realised she was lost. She had been loose in muggle London once in her entire life, and that was Tuesday. Nothing was familiar. Her desperation to escape The Leaky Cauldron morphed into a new desperation. She wanted to get back to her own world, to the familiar, but she didn’t want to go to the Burrow. She didn’t want to go to Harry’s flat. She didn’t want— _Baker Street._

“Excuse me,” Ginny asked the first passerby she saw. They kept walking. “Excuse me,” she asked another. Several tries later, someone pointed her down the road to an underground station. Her heart leapt at the sight. This was something she knew, at least more than all the unfamiliar streets. 

Inside, however, she realised two things. First, she had no clue which train would take her to Baker Street Station, and second, she had no muggle money. She tried asking passerby for directions again with little luck, but eventually some kind soul told her which train she needed. As discretely as she could, she magicked her way through the turnstile and down to the trains. 

Ginny could have cried tears of joy when the train arrived at Baker Street. She stepped out into the street and was confronted with a new problem: she didn’t know where to go from here. Ginny didn’t even know the name of the sandwich shop. All she remembered was that it was some sort of French name. Not particularly helpful.

She could have cried when she finally found it. The streets were just barely familiar enough to guide her with only a few wrong turns along the way. But it was closed. Ginny hadn’t really considered the time, and her stupid, reckless, poorly-thought out plan had left her even further from her world, drunk and alone deep in muggle London. She banged weakly on the door and sunk down to the ground, actually crying now. 

“Ginny?” She nearly jumped out of her skin. “Sorry.” Standing in the doorway, lit only by the street lamps, was Phil. “I was just closing up. Are you—are you okay?” Ginny stopped crying—she didn’t want to cry in front of him—and stood up, swaying as she did. 

“Fine.”

“Shit, you’re pissed, aren’t you?”

He stepped forward and grabbed her arm to steady her. Ginny jerked away, stumbled, and leaned against the wall for balance. Phil frowned. He sighed, locked the door of the shop, and looked back at Ginny.

“You’re looking for Tori, aren’t you?” he said.

“Well, I’m not looking for you, am I?” Ginny said.

He recoiled, hurt, but then he shrugged it off. “I’ll take you.”

“I punched my boyfriend.” Ginny didn’t know why she said it. It just sort of came out. 

“Er, I’m sorry? Or congratulations? Look, let’s just get to the main street so I can hail a cab.” 

Ginny tried to think of some way to argue, but Phil was her best option back to the wizarding world. He tried to put her arm over his shoulder, but she didn’t want his hands near her. She pulled away and stumbled. He caught her. Ginny sighed and put her arm over his shoulder so he could keep her steady.

On the main road, Phil hailed a cab, helped her in, and slid in beside her. He gave an address to the driver, and then they were on their way. 

“You probably already know, but she dumped me,” Phil said. He was staring out the window. Ginny didn’t know what to say. 

A long, uncomfortable silence followed. The car was making her sick, and her only comfort was maybe if it kept sloshing her insides enough, she could at least turn her head and be sure Phil got a lap-full of bile. 

“My whole family hate me,” he said. 

“Good,” Ginny said.

“I really fucked up.” 

Then, thankfully, he stopped talking. For while, at least. Merlin, muggle cars were slow. She should have just risked it and apparated in the middle of muggle London. Who cared if she was seen? Who cared if she was too drunk and splinched herself? Anything to not be stuck here with this wanker. 

“Rhianna won’t talk to me.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why did he think Ginny cared? “None of them will.”

“Have you tried not being a raging homophobe?” Ginny suggested. Phil turned away from the window and looked at Ginny. She looked away quickly, determined to maintain as much distance as she could despite their close quarters.

Again, he fell silent, but Ginny no longer trusted it. A few more minutes of silent brooding, and he’d be at again, dumping more of his useless moaning on Ginny. Maybe this was the universe’s way of punishing her. 

“I’m not stupid, you know.” Ah, there he goes again.

“Could have fooled me.” Ginny wished she’d stop taking his bait.

“I know Rhianna and Eleri are different, just like Aunt Delyth. And you and Tori are too, aren’t you?” Wait, what? Shit. “I wish they’d just tell me the truth. Do you know how shitty it is when your girlfriend knows your family secrets more than you do?” 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re on about,” Ginny said. She didn’t want to feel bad for Phil, and she resented him for trying. Yeah, sure, Ginny thought, it must really suck to be the muggle relatives in a wizarding family. Cool, cool, are we done now?

“It’s some sort of secret government programme, isn’t it? I don’t know what exactly they do to you, but I can tell there’s something different about all of you.” 

“Different like we don’t attack people just for being gay?” Ginny glared at Phil, doing her best not to show how alarmed she was. Muggles weren’t supposed to notice, were they? Muggles were supposed to be oblivious. Phil frowned.

“Different like I know Aunt Delyth did something to me when I was having a go at Rhianna. My head went all weird, like I was drugged. Missing spots in my memories all my life. Electronics going funny. The CD player at work only ever skips when Tori’s there. It’s like she’s full of some kind of energy.” 

“Sounds like you need a new CD player,” Ginny said. She hadn’t a clue what a CD player was, but she knew exactly what he was talking about anyway. Magic, even just the presence of someone magical, sometimes made muggle electronics act funny. That was one of the few things she’d actually remembered her dad saying about muggles.

“Yeah, that’s what I used to think when it was just the stuff at their house. But the CD player at work isn’t that old, and it never skips when she’s not there. And it’s not just the CD player. I can feel it when she touches me. It goes through my whole body.”

“Ugh, I really don’t need to hear about your fucking hard-on.”

“I’m not talking about that. I mean, yes, Tori is well fit obviously, so there’s that too.” He grinned at the thought. Ginny thought she’d like to break his nose too. “But the feeling I’m talking about—it’s not just her. Rhianna, Eleri, Aunt Delyth—even you.” He stared at her with a wild desperation in his eyes. He needed Ginny to tell him he was right. Ginny’s stomach, however, didn’t care about his plight. 

“I’m gonna be sick.” Ginny, in spite of her alcohol-induced poor judgement, turned her head toward the window to spare Phil. Maybe she could figure out how to open the window before the contents of her stomach ended up all over her.

“Jesus, I’m not saying it like that! It’s like this.” Phil grabbed Ginny’s arm and, reflexively, she jerked her arm away and whipped her head back to give him a death glare. 

Except the car made a sharp turn just then, and she was launched face first into Phil as the contents of her stomach raced up her esophagus and sprayed themselves all over him. When her stomach had finished rejecting all of Ginny’s decisions for the evening, she pulled herself back up.

Phil scrunched his nose and wiped splattered vomit off his face. “Oh. That kind of sick,” he said humourlessly. He looked down at himself. Ginny had managed to thoroughly cover his lap and side up to his shoulder, with hardly a speck on the car itself. So much for convincing Phil she was just a muggle like him. Even her vomit was magic.

They rode in silence the rest of the way.

When they arrived, Phil paid the driver, apologised profusely for the mess (which was mostly just on Phil), and helped Ginny out. (Ginny was not so stubborn as to refuse help from someone she’d just spewed all over, no matter how much she wanted to hate him. And he’d been polite enough to offer the arm Ginny hadn’t covered in bile.) Together, they walked up the steps, and Phil knocked on the door. 

“Ginny?” Rhianna said when she opened the door. Then she looked at Phil, and her face tightened. “Phil, what the fuck?” Rhianna held out an arm to Ginny, and Ginny gladly slipped out of Phil’s grip to lean on Rhianna instead. 

“I found her outside when I was closing up,” Phil said. He looked down at himself. “She, er, got sick.”

Rhianna sighed. “Thanks for bringing her here.” 

“Yeah.” Rhianna and Phil stared at each other for a moment. “I’ll, er, see you, I guess. Maybe. Christmas?”

Rhianna rubbed her free hand on her temple and sighed again. “Don’t be stupid. You’re covered in spew, Phil. Go take a shower.” 

“It’s okay.” But his face had brightened up considerably. “I’ll just—”

“Shut up and get inside.” Rhianna stepped further back into the house, but Phil hovered, hesitant. “My mum’s out of town.” 

“Oh.” Phil relaxed slightly, considered for a moment, and finally stepped in. Rhianna helped Ginny to the staircase and sat her down.

“Can I leave you here with him for a minute?” Rhianna asked quietly. “I need to warn her before I let him go upstairs.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny said. Rhianna nodded, gestured for Phil to stay put, and then hurried up the stairs. Phil looked around nervously, as if waiting for Rhianna’s mum to pop out at any moment. Ginny wondered vaguely what spell she had used to sedate him. She hoped it hurt, and she hated herself for hoping it.

“Tori,” Phil said suddenly. His face lit up just as Rhianna stepped back into Ginny’s line of sight. Rhianna glared at him, and he froze.

“Go,” Rhianna said firmly. “Shower. Use my mum’s. I’ll bring you a clean towel.” Phil sighed and slipped up the stairs past Ginny.

“Bloody hell, Ginny,” Astoria said, voice full of worry. She knelt down in front of Ginny and looked at her closely. “She needs water.” 

“On it,” Rhianna said. Gently, Astoria moved Ginny’s head and checked each of her eyes.

“Just alcohol,” Ginny said. “Promise.”

Just then, an eagle owl swooped in, dropped a piece of parchment on Ginny’s lap, and left. Astoria’s eyes narrowed. Ginny picked up the parchment and unfolded it. 

_Thank you, Weasley x_

There was nothing else. Astoria’s eyes flashed between the parchment and Ginny. Ginny knew who it had to be from. She wondered if Astoria had recognised Malfoy’s owl, his handwriting, or both. Ginny would have recognised neither, but who else would have sent that letter just now?

“Here,” Rhianna said. She had returned with a glass of water. Astoria took it and handed it to Ginny. The weight of the evening was sinking in. 

“Drink,” Astoria said. Ginny had sided with Draco Malfoy against Harry Potter in the middle of a crowded pub. 

“Thanks,” Ginny said. She’d punched her boyfriend to the ground and fled. 

“Where do we need to take you, Ginny? The Burrow? To Harry’s?” Malfoy understood what she’d done.

“Not Harry,” Ginny said quickly. Malfoy was thanking her.

“Not Harry.” Astoria nodded.

“Can I stay here?” Ginny could see Astoria trying to piece together the clues. She wondered what Astoria would think of her when she finished solving the puzzle.

“Absolutely,” Rhianna said quickly.

“Always,” Astoria said. She hesitated, and then added: “Do we need to send someone an owl?”

“I’ll grab paper and pen,” Rhianna said. She slipped past Astoria and Ginny and back up the stairs again. Ginny drank her water, and Astoria set her hands on Ginny’s knees. For a brief moment, Ginny was in the hospital wing, Astoria’s gentle hands tending to all of Ginny’s quidditch injuries. Nothing Astoria couldn’t mend.

And then Rhianna was back, and the illusion faltered as Astoria took some sort of muggle parchment and quill from her. Astoria wouldn’t be able to mend this. 

“Who do we need to write to?” Astoria asked Ginny. 

“I’ll do it,” Ginny said. Astoria pulled off a piece of plastic from what Ginny assumed was the pen and then handed both to Ginny. 

“You can use my back,” Astoria said. She turned around. Ginny put the paper on her back and wrote a quick note:

_I’m safe. Don’t look for me. -Ginny_

“Send it to Hermione,” Ginny told Rhianna. Ginny wondered if Hermione would be able to guess where she’d gone. Rhianna took the letter and the pen and went back up the stairs. Astoria turned to face Ginny again. 

“Do you think you can manage the stairs with some help? You can have my room.” Ginny’s cheeks burned, and she tried to speak, but all that came out was an undignified squeak. “Really, it’s fine. I can sleep with Rhianna.”

“No,” Ginny managed. 

“Well, I could probably carry you then.” The suggestion did nothing to stop the burning in Ginny’s cheeks. “Unless you mean no as in you’d rather sleep down here on the sofa.” 

“Sent it,” Rhianna said as she came back down the stairs. “Finish your water, Ginny.” Ginny chugged the rest. “Right, let’s get you upstairs.” She took the empty glass and set it down. 

“I was just asking her if she wanted my room or the sofa.”

“Don’t be silly. She’s not staying down here alone on the sofa. Help me.” She pulled Ginny to her feet, and the room swayed. Astoria grabbed Ginny’s other side, and together they squeezed up the stairs and down the hall to Astoria’s room. They set Ginny down on the edge of Astoria’s bed, and then Rhianna left. 

“I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered to Astoria. Rhianna came back with another full glass of water and set it on Astoria’s night stand. 

“I don’t work until two tomorrow,” Rhianna said, “so I’ll be around in the morning.” Ginny nodded. “Got it from here, Astoria? I’ll deal with Phil.”

“I’ll be over in a minute,” Astoria said.

“Stay with Ginny. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rhianna looked at Ginny again. “Sleep well, Ginny. Don’t let Astoria be an idiot.” Whatever that meant. Ginny nodded anyway, and Rhianna left. 

“Here,” Astoria said. She pulled out a pair of pyjamas from her closet and set them on the bed beside Ginny. “Do you need help getting changed?” Ginny shook her head. “Is there anything else I can get you? Are you hungry? Do you have a headache?” Ginny shook her head again. “Okay. Rhianna’s room is right across the hall. If you need anything, please come wake one of us up.” Astoria summoned her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “You sure you don’t need anything else?”

“Stay,” Ginny whispered. She reached out her hand toward Astoria. Astoria froze, looking around the room as if there might be someone else Ginny could be talking to. When there was no one else, Astoria’s eyes settled on Ginny’s. She set the bag down in the middle of the floor, sat next to Ginny, and put her arms around her. Ginny hugged back and, though she made a futile attempt to stop herself, immediately started crying into Astoria’s shoulder. 

She hated herself. She hated herself for keeping Astoria secret still. She hated herself for coming here, drunk and pathetic and self-pitying. She hated herself for punching Harry. She hated herself for not punching him harder. She hated herself for being poor, for being George’s pity hire, the only one of her peers with no real career plans still. She hated herself for having a family, people who could make up for her constant failings. She hated herself because no one else seemed to bother hating her enough. 

And she wanted to claw through Astoria, claw through every last layer of perfect calm, past the sarcasm and flippancy and mock arrogance, and find the anger and rage. She wanted to find the friend she’d turned into a soldier, who she’d pushed to spy for Dumbledore’s Army, who accepted her role in the war without question. Somewhere, underneath the kindness and warmth, there had to be an Astoria who hated her, who resented Ginny for letting Astoria’s innocence be just another casualty in a casualty-filled war, for robbing Astoria of the easy life she could have had, if only she’d stayed out of a war that didn’t affect her. 

Ginny hated Astoria for refusing to even be angry with her, and she clung onto her anyway, covering Astoria in her own self-loathing. One more burden Ginny was giving Astoria. Ginny took a deep breath and pushed herself away from Astoria. 

“I—I need the toilet,” Ginny said. 

“I think Rhianna sent Phil upstairs, so the one down the hall should be free. Do you need a hand walking?”

“No, I’m fine.” Ginny grabbed the pyjamas Astoria had set out and left without another word. She did actually need the toilet—all the remaining alcohol and water had to go somewhere. Ginny used the opportunity to slow her breathing and wash her face too. She was drunk, she reminded herself. She just needed water and sleep. Everything would be fine in the morning. 

When she came back, Astoria’s bag had been moved to its proper place, but Astoria was still sitting on the edge of the bed. Calm. Ginny could have punched her too. 

“I think I’m going to go to sleep,” Ginny said. 

“Do you still want—?” Astoria started to ask.

“Stay.” Ginny had wanted it to come out calmly, as an offer, but she could hear the desperation in her own voice. 

“I can sleep on the floor if—”

“Get in the fucking bed, Astoria,” Ginny said. Astoria bit down a laugh, but she did as she was told. Ginny got as far as standing next to the bed before the self-loathing stopped her again. Astoria should be in Rhianna’s room. She should be with the friend who had always stood up for her, who actually deserved her kindness.

“That’s a funny way to sleep,” Astoria said. “Most people I know do it lying down.”

“Oh, shut up.” Ginny forced her self-loathing back down, took one more gulp of water, and got into bed beside Astoria. Astoria waved her hand, and the light went out. Ginny stared up at the ceiling. There was a strip of light on the ceiling, an uninvited sliver of the city outside breaking through the gap in the curtains. Ginny hoped there was a crack in her self-loathing too. She rolled over and wrapped herself in Astoria.


	10. I find it hard to tell you ‘cause I find it hard to take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny wakes with a hangover and the repercussions of her actions the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: alcohol references, mention of violence, mention of child abuse, mentions of homophobia, mention of genocide (blood supremacist)

> Saturday, 31 July 1999. Early hours.

Astoria was slow and careful and silent when she slipped out of the bed in the morning. She somehow managed to disentangle herself from Ginny without waking her. But the sudden cold woke Ginny anyway, and then the nausea and headache hit. She kept her eyes closed and didn’t move. Astoria changed silently, picked up her bag, and stepped beside the bed.

“Sorry, Ginny,” she whispered. She bent over, kissed the top of Ginny’s head, and then she left. When she was sure Astoria was gone, Ginny sat up slowly. She reached for her water and saw a note. On it was Astoria’s neat, elegant cursive:

_This will help with the hangover. Sorry I have to leave. Rhianna is home. xx_

Ginny took the small cup beside the note and threw it back. It tasted bitter. She drank the rest of the water, rinsing the bitter taste out of her mouth, and laid back down.

Ginny woke up several hours later, feeling considerably less nauseated. Astoria’s note was still on the nightstand, and her glass had been refilled. Ginny traced Astoria’s cursive with her finger for a moment before getting up. She really didn’t want to get up, but she was hungry, and Rhianna was probably worrying about her. 

She got up and found that her careless pile of last night’s clothes had been joined by a neat stack of immaculately folded clean clothes beside them on the floor. Her mess was untouched. It was as if Astoria had thought Ginny’s dirty clothes might be some sort of carefully planned piece of abstract art, a statement on the chaos of existence, and thought it best not to disturb it. 

If Ginny had thought the clothes were a gesture of kindness though, she was proven wrong upon closer inspection. Astoria had set out an Appleby Arrows shirt and matching quidditch shorts. Ginny knew perfectly well that Astoria had plenty of Harpies clothes she could have left out instead, but she’d chosen her own team over Ginny’s. How clever, Ginny thought dryly.

Ginny made herself drink more water once she’d changed and Astoria’s note caught her eye again. It was stupid, and she didn’t really know why she did it, but she folded the note and stuck it in her bra. A pocket-sized Astoria, secret as always.

“Ginny?” Rhianna called softly when Ginny stepped into the hall. A moment later, Rhianna stepped out of her own room and into the hall. “Hiya. You’re up.” She smiled gently.

“I guess,” Ginny said.

“How are you feeling?”

Ginny shrugged. “Astoria gave me a potion. I think it’s helping.”

“Oh, yeah, she said. Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I just need to do one thing real quick. You remember where it is?”

“Yeah.” 

“Help yourself to anything in there.” Rhianna disappeared back into her room, and Ginny headed downstairs. She didn’t expect anything to be appealing, so she just grabbed the first food she saw—an apple and a blueberry muffin—and sat down at the table in front of a pile of letters. She pushed the letters away, but the Hogwarts seal caught her eye. 

Abandoning her brief attempt at respecting her hosts’ privacy, Ginny picked through the letters. There was one addressed to Rhianna, several addressed to Astoria, and, somehow, one addressed to Ginny. It had Rhianna’s address. McGonagall knew she was here, just like Dumbledore had always known when Harry was at the Burrow. Ginny had always thought her parents just told Dumbledore, but she doubted Astoria or Rhianna would have bothered to update McGonagall on Ginny’s whereabouts last night. Weird. 

“Oh, did our marks come?” Rhianna said as she walked in. 

“Er, sorry, I—” Ginny stammered.

“Bloody hell, how many letters has she got?” Rhianna sat down across from Ginny and started going through the rest of the letters. “Ooh, this one’s heavy.” Rhianna grinned. “Astoria is going to be fuming. Here.” Rhianna held the letter out to Ginny.

“That’s not a badge, is it?” Ginny said when she took the letter. It was much heavier than normal, like there was something metal inside. Ginny bent the letter and found there was definitely something hard and roughly badge-sized. “That’s definitely a badge.”

“It’s absolutely a badge.”

“Head Girl, you think?”

“What else could it be?” Rhianna continued flipping through the letters, sorting them into piles. It was an impressive amount of post for a house of three people, Ginny thought. “Oh, this one’s probably about quidditch.” Rhianna held one up toward the light, apparently trying to see through the envelope. “Thick envelope is probably good news at least.” She dropped the envelope in the pile she’d made of Astoria’s post. “Oh, here we go.” Rhianna had finally gotten to her own letter. “Want to open together?”

“Sure. On three?”

“One, two, three!” They both opened their letters. 

Ginny quickly skimmed to find her marks. “I passed.”

“Me too. Can I see yours?” Ginny handed her N.E.W.T. marks to Rhianna. “Passed? Ginny, you did brilliant.”

“Thanks.” Just then, Ginny heard a soft thud followed by hurried footsteps. “I thought you said your mum was out of town.”

“She is.”

“Then who—”

“Is that all you’ve given her, Rhianna?” Astoria said as she walked in, eyes on Ginny’s half-eaten muffin and untouched apple. She flicked her wand, and the fridge and cupboards opened, ingredients and cookware flying onto the counter. Astoria, meanwhile, started pulling her Healer uniform off, and Rhianna jumped up to help her.

“Where did those eggs even come from?” Rhianna asked. Ginny was a bit more confused as to where Astoria had come from. “I used the last of them Wednesday.”

“I know. I went to the store Thursday and got you more.” Astoria, now in just a sleeveless shirt and shorts, shoved her uniform into Rhianna’s arms and started cooking.

“When did you even have time on Thursday?” Rhianna dropped the uniform into an empty chair and sat back down.

“I went at lunch. Here, Ginny, drink more water.” Astoria set a glass of water down in front of her and turned back to the counter. “Have you eaten yet, Rhianna?”

“Just cereal. Hogwarts post came, by the way.”

“Oh? Did you get your marks?”

“We both passed,” Ginny said.

“Well done," Astoria said. "McGonagall knows you're here then.”

“Apparently.”

“You’ve got several letters, Astoria,” Rhianna said.

“From school?” Astoria said.

“Yeah. I think you’ll like this one.” Rhianna picked up the one that seemed to have a badge in it.

“I’ll look at it later. I don’t want to think about how behind I am on all my homework right now. Keeping up with Shah is plenty.”

“You could—”

“Not now, Rhianna,” Astoria said sharply. “Ginny doesn’t need our dumb fight, and you really don’t want to know the cases we’ve had so far this morning.”

“At St. Mungo’s?” Ginny asked. “What sort of stuff do you see?”

“Everything. Just this morning we had someone who was stupid enough to sign a contract with his girlfriend promising to be monogamous, and of course he cheated on her, and of course she’d cursed the contract.”

“Oh no.” 

“That thing has been burned into my eyeballs forever. And on that note, eat.” Astoria shoved two plates of scrambled eggs and veggies in front of Rhianna and Ginny. Then she plopped down into the chair beside Ginny and laid her head down on the table.

“How long are you off, Astoria?” Rhianna asked.

Astoria lifted her head up and shrugged. “Shah told me she’d dock my pay if I wasn’t gone at least an hour, but we’re understaffed today, so I do need to get back sooner rather than later.”

“Why does Shah want you gone if you’re understaffed?” Ginny asked. Astoria and Rhianna exchanged a look.

“I told her you stayed over last night,” Astoria said carefully. 

“Why would—” Then, suddenly, a terrible thought hit Ginny. “Do you get _The Daily Prophet_?”

“You don’t want to see it.”

“Where is it?” Of course. They had been in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron. Ginny should have been expecting it.

“It’s all rubbish anyway,” Rhianna said.

“I want to see it,” Ginny insisted. 

“Ginny—” Rhianna said.

“Let her, Rhianna,” Astoria said. “She’s going to see it eventually.”

Rhianna looked unconvinced, but she took out her wand and summoned the paper anyway. Ginny grabbed it and unfolded it. Emblazoned across the front page was the headline “He Defeated You-Know-Who But Can He Survive His Barbaric Girlfriend?” Beneath it, a photo of Harry, nose bleeding all down his front, looking none too happy to have his photo taken. Ginny didn’t have to read the article to know the sort of rubbish it must say.

“Filthy rag,” Ginny spat, tossing the paper aside.

“My thoughts exactly,” Astoria said. She put her hand on Ginny’s shoulder, but Ginny pulled away.

”You should go back to St. Mungo’s before Harry Potter’s barbaric girlfriend breaks your nose too.” 

“I’d be honoured. My nose is all yours, my dearest barbarian friend.” Astoria held her nose out toward Ginny and closed her eyes. 

“It’s not funny, Astoria.”

“Of course it is.” Astoria opened her eyes. “It is absolutely hilarious that you’d even suggest that I of all people would trust _The Daily Prophet_ ’s outrageous portrayal of you over years of knowing you. I don’t believe one word of that rubbish, and I think you’re funny for suggesting I might.” 

“Well, you should. It’s true.” Ginny knew she was being petulant, but she didn’t care. 

“It’s true you were seen late last night at Malfoy Manor? I think I would have noticed you get up.”

“ _What_?” Ginny expected some embellishment, but that seemed a bit much, even for _The Prophet_.

“I guess you got bored of living in my dark, edgy shadow and wanted to shag your way to infamy. Bold move, Ginny.”

“Merlin’s pants.”

“To be fair,” Rhianna said, “Ginny did sleep with a stubborn, arrogant Slytherin pureblood last night.” Ginny’s cheeks burned, and she suddenly felt very conscious of the slip of parchment hidden near her heart. 

Astoria, on the other hand, simply turned and buried her face in Ginny’s shoulder, as if demonstrating how they’d slept. “Mm, and who knew barbarians were so soft,” she said.

Ginny knew what she was trying to do, but she didn’t want to be soothed. She shrugged Astoria off her.

“Sorry,” Astoria said, face pink. Good job, Ginny. Now Astoria felt bad for trying to be nice.

“Fine, I didn’t go to Malfoy’s,” Ginny said, “but the rest of it is true.”

“You haven’t even read it,” Astoria said. “What if it says you’re secretly the giant squid itself?”

“I don’t have to read it to know what it says. It says I’m violent and dangerous. Unhinged. It says I punched Harry Potter in the middle of a crowded pub and sided with a bloody Death Eater. It probably also says I’m a waste and a failure and—”

“It’s a tabloid, not your internal monologue.”

“Whatever. It’s true.”

“So you punched Harry?”

“Yeah, and—”

“Finally someone did it.”

“You’re not helping.”

“What happened?” Rhianna said gently. 

Ginny looked at her, still angry, but then she sighed, letting some of her temper subside. “We were all drunk, and then Malfoy showed up, and of course everyone kicked off. Malfoy wasn’t actually doing anything, and Harry and Ron were just harassing him for showing up with some bloke, asking if he was Malfoy’s boyfriend. Malfoy was trying to leave, and I tried to get them to lay off, but they were just being prats and wouldn’t back down. Harry shoved me out of the way to threaten them some more and called Malfoy a nasty word, and I just snapped.”

“A nasty word?” Astoria asked. 

“For—for a gay person.” Ginny looked at Rhianna quickly, but she didn’t seem bothered. Astoria, however, was absolutely grinning. “Why do you look so happy?”

“Because I love you.” 

“You—what?”

“Ginny Weasley, I could absolutely kiss you right now,” Astoria practically sang. Ginny’s face went suddenly very hot. She glanced at Rhianna, who was smiling now too, eyes on Astoria. “I mean I knew you were good, but Merlin, you’re just the best.” Astoria leaned over and kissed Ginny’s cheek, which only made the burning in her cheeks spread all over.

Ginny tried to protest, but she just stammered half-formed words, unable to get anything coherent out as her brain swung wildly between anger, self-hate, confusion, defensiveness, and a slight, sudden giddiness. Ginny groaned and ran a hand through her hair, trying to get her brain to settle on something, anything.

“I’m not,” Ginny finally said, voice firm. 

“You’re not what?” Astoria asked.

“The best. I’m the worst, so stop trying to coddle me. I’m not some fragile little girl. I can handle the truth.”

“I’m not coddling you,” Astoria said hotly. “I do happen to think you’re the best, so if you’re so damn tough, suck it up and accept the truth.”

“Well, you’re wrong. It wasn’t—I didn’t—” Ginny let out an exasperated groan. “You’re acting like I’m a hero, but I’m not. I punched Harry because I was angry that he was ignoring me. It wasn’t noble; it was selfish. I was just drunk and angry and took it out on Harry. And you especially shouldn’t be acting like I’m so great. I punched him for ignoring me, but I never say anything when he talks shit about you.”

“I don’t care what Potter thinks of me.”

“He asked what I did Tuesday, and I just told him I saw Rhianna and then skipped having a burger to make up for still being too chickenshit to tell him you’re my friend when I’ve had over a year now to do it.”

“Merlin, I so completely, utterly do not care, Ginny. I really don’t need you to wear a sign that says ‘Astoria Greengrass is my mate’ and broadcast to the world how great you think I am. I’m the only one who needs to know you love me, and I do. I told you I don’t like your boyfriend’s homophobia, and you trashed his whole damn face for me.”

“I didn’t—”

“I get it. You were drunk. Sober Ginny would have handled things more eloquently.”

“I was saying that same crap a week ago, Astoria.”

“And now you’re not.”

“You don’t know that!” Ginny shouted, standing up. 

“Sit down and finish your food.”

Ginny was breathing hard, almost shaking. She looked from Astoria (serious, firm, frowning) to Rhianna (worried, pitying, frowning too) and back. She hated them both. 

“You’re not my mother,” Ginny spat, and then she stormed out of the kitchen and locked herself in the living room. She threw herself down on the sofa, and her rage quickly gave way to more tears. 

Astoria was just trying to help, and all Ginny had done was shout at her. And she couldn’t stop making Rhianna deal with constant reminders that other people—whether it was her cousin or the goddamn hero of the wizarding world—hated her just for being gay. Rhianna didn’t need reminding of that sort of thing. She’d surely heard enough of it at school. As if being hated and hunted for her muggle father and muggleborn mother hadn’t been enough. 

Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for how Ginny felt about herself. She couldn’t do anything right, and the things she did wrong were hurting all the people she cared about. It wasn’t just Astoria and Rhianna either. Harry and her family and probably even Neville and Hermione would be facing public scrutiny once again now thanks to Ginny’s drunken violence. Harry and Ron might have been way out of line, but Ginny had only made things worse and turned it all into a big spectacle for the whole wizarding world to see. 

She shouldn’t be trusted with anyone. She was too dangerous, too reckless, too selfish. She’d wanted to punch Astoria for no reason last night, and then there Ginny was again, just moments ago, blood boiling as she looked at Astoria. She had hated Astoria and Rhianna both in that moment. If she hadn’t stormed out, maybe she would have hit them too. 

The door unlocked, and Ginny stopped crying abruptly. She sat up and wiped her face dry. Astoria walked in, closed the door behind her, and then sat down on the sofa with Ginny. Ginny tensed but stayed put. For now. 

“I know what this is, Ginny,” Astoria said without looking at her. “I know exactly what sort of awful things your brain is telling you about yourself. And I’m sorry because I don’t think I helped the other day by being so hard on you about it all.”

“You don’t—” Ginny started, but Astoria waved it away. 

“You might not want to hear it right now, and your brain might scream at you that I’m lying for some reason, but you’re a good person, Ginny. And do you want to know why?” 

“Why?” Ginny asked, entirely unconvinced. 

“Because you’re willing to admit when you’re not. Congrats, your pity party, self-hatred, swirling stew of anger is only proving that you’re good. I know you want to cling to everything wrong you’ve ever done to prove just how bad you are, but unfortunately you’ve met your match, and you’re going to lose the bad person race if you try to go against me.” 

“You’re not a bad person.” Ginny hated when Astoria talked about herself like that.

“I know,” Astoria said impatiently. “So if I, someone who once sincerely believed that all muggles should be enslaved and muggleborns were a dangerous threat to the entire fabric of existence, don't get the title of bad person, then neither do you.”

“That was a long time ago. You don’t believe any of that now.”

“I believed it when I met Rhianna, and I still believed a lot of it when you decided I was secretly a good person and forced friendship on me just like she had. Hell, I still catch myself repeating random lies my family and their friends taught me without thinking. I don’t think you believe a single cruel thing about Rhianna being gay, but even if you do, you don’t want to, and you’ll fight yourself to not believe it like I’ve been fighting myself for years to rid myself of all the leftover hate my upbringing gave me. Because you are good, and you love Rhianna far more than you love any shitty beliefs you may have accidentally learned.” 

“I’m not you, Astoria. I can’t just—” Ginny hesitated. She didn’t know how to say it. None of the words that came to mind felt right. Astoria may have thought things through carefully, but she never hesitated on her principles. “I’m not brave enough.”

“Brave?” Astoria looked at her now, flabbergasted. “You think I am somehow the braver person here?”

“You gave up everything, Astoria. Your friends, your family—you could have had anything you wanted, and you just walked away from all of it because you wouldn’t compromise on what you believe. I can’t do that. I want to compromise. I don’t want to choose between Rhianna and my family. I want both. I was angry with Harry and Ron for making me choose, and I’m still angry, and I still don’t want to choose. Hermione told me back at school that she couldn’t be friends with someone who’s gay, and I’m more angry with her for telling me than for thinking it. I just want them all to not tell me so I don’t have to decide.”

“Okay, first of all, there’s no way Hermione told you that. I’m sure she’d be mortified to hear you say that.” Ginny was surprised by how sure Astoria sounded. She and Hermione were barely what Ginny would call friends, and they always seemed to be getting themselves into arguments. Astoria defending her was more than a little weird to Ginny. 

“Second,” Astoria continued, “if you think Rhianna needs or wants you to disown all your friends and family to prove a point, you really don’t know Rhianna at all. She’d be devastated if you did that, Ginny. Not only does she happen to like them, but she would also hate for you to lose anyone you care about because of her. She’s only glad I’m here and not with my family because my family physically abused me. If they were nice to me while still supporting genocide, she’d find a way to feel bad about me not living with them.

“Your family,” Astoria continued, “are ignorant, not malicious. I mean, I suppose they’re malicious toward people like Draco, but I can’t imagine Potter and your brother randomly attacking Rhianna for sport just because she’s gay. Making stupid jokes and comments? Sure. Acting weird or uncomfortable about it? Probably. Mistaking any bit of affection between her and another woman as sexual? Absolutely. But outright malice? As much as it pains me to say anything nice about Potter, probably not.”

“So that’s okay then?” Ginny said, her temper quickly rising. “They can be prats so long as they don’t go around randomly attacking people? Bullying is fine as long as it’s not physical?” Astoria would never hold such a pathetically low standard for anyone she respected, and she would never tolerate even the slightest unkindness toward her best friend. She was lying to make Ginny feel better, and Ginny hated it. 

“I never said it was okay. If they were my friends, I’d be furious. In fact, I’m a bit peeved with Neville for not putting a stop to it. He knows better. But there’s a difference between running around hating people _because_ they’re gay and hating someone for other reasons and just using homophobia as a bludgeon. They both suck, but it’s a lot easier to get people in the latter category to grow up. I’m just telling you that they’re probably the latter. Unlike, you know, most of my family who haven’t said a single word to me in over a year because they’re still furious I didn’t die properly, like a good blood traitor should.” Astoria rolled her eyes. Ginny reluctantly let her temper fall again. She didn’t know if Astoria was telling the truth, but she wanted to believe her. And she had a point—their families weren’t at all alike, and it was unfair of Ginny to keep comparing them. 

“Well, you are pretty rubbish at dying, you know,” Ginny teased, burnt out on arguing. Astoria was, in Ginny’s humble opinion, second only to Harry in her inability to die. If Ginny hadn’t known any better, she might have thought Astoria was lucky. 

“Did—did you just make a joke? About my attempted murder?” 

Ginny shrugged. “More of a general observation, really.” She allowed herself a small smile, and Astoria smiled back. Then the weight on Ginny’s consciousness settled back in, and she sighed. “They’re not going to grow up and be decent on their own, are they?”

“Yeah, you might need to punch Potter some more. Maybe try doing it somewhere _The Daily Prophet_ won’t see next time though.”

“Bloody hell, could you try hating my boyfriend just a little less?” Ginny knew it was unfair. Astoria held her tongue far more than Ginny would have if Astoria was dating someone she hated, and leagues more than Harry held his tongue about Astoria. Ginny hated hearing it from Astoria anyway. 

“I don’t _hate_ him. I just find him unpleasant to be around, and I am admittedly in disbelief that you actually like him so much. He doesn’t really seem your type.” Her type? Ginny had been in love with Harry for 8 years. Of course he was her type. 

“Oh, I suppose you know who’s my type? Go on then, who am I supposed to fancy?”

“Look, I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?”

“Merlin, Ginny.” Astoria groaned and threw herself back on the sofa, knees up and feet beside Ginny. “I happen to think Pansy is an absolute twat, but if hell froze over and Pansy and Rhianna somehow started dating, I’m not getting in the way of that either. I’d learn to live because I love Rhianna, just like I love you. If he makes you happy, that’s good enough for me, okay? I don’t have to get it, and I trust you can figure out who makes you happy all by yourself.”

Ginny hesitated, but then let out her breath. “Okay.” Astoria furrowed her brow as if she didn’t trust Ginny was actually going to drop the argument. Ginny couldn’t really blame her. At least some part of her still wanted to argue with Astoria about Harry, as much as she also hated hearing it. It was pointless, but that didn’t stop Ginny wanting the argument. Maybe she just wanted to hear Astoria care. 

Ginny laid her arm across Astoria’s knees. Astoria looked at her curiously, and then her face and shoulders relaxed. She looked up at the ceiling, apparently satisfied that Ginny wasn’t going to insist on arguing now. It occurred to Ginny that she’d never actually touched the skin of Astoria’s knees. Ginny was always the one vulnerable, needing to be healed, needing Astoria’s hands on her skin. Astoria never seemed to need her. 

Ginny’s fingers traced Astoria’s skin, feeling the shape of the bone and cartilage beneath. The corners of Astoria’s mouth twitched into a small smile. Maybe what Ginny needed wasn’t to hear Astoria care about Ginny. Maybe what she needed was to know Astoria needed Ginny just as much as Ginny needed her. Ginny wanted to matter enough for Astoria to actually be selfish. 

Out of necessity, they’d both kept their friendship secret for years. When the war ended, so too did the necessity, and Astoria stopped pretending and lying immediately. But Ginny, though she’d made it a point to be openly friends with Astoria at school, still kept Astoria compartmentalised from parts of her life. Maybe it was easier for Astoria because her secret life, where she was friends with Ginny, was the only one she cared about. She’d simply dumped her old life and let the secret life she’d had finally be her public life. 

Ginny didn’t want to dump either life though. She wanted her family and Harry, and she wanted Astoria, but she didn’t know how to make them fit together. Ginny imagined inviting Astoria to the same places she went with her other friends. It felt dangerous and wrong, as if letting Ginny’s other friends touch her could somehow taint Astoria and their friendship. She wanted to hide Astoria away from the rest of the world and keep her to herself. She liked their secret. 

Astoria’s skin was soft, and Ginny could feel the hard-won muscles underneath. Even the muscles in Astoria’s legs, the result of countless nights flying together under cover of darkness, felt like a secret Ginny wanted to keep to herself. Astoria was hers, and she didn’t want to share. That Astoria didn’t seem to feel the same, that she could simply accept Ginny dating someone who openly hated her, hurt. 

But Ginny thought of the way Astoria had thrown herself down on the sofa, frustrated at Ginny’s insistence on a fight. Maybe Astoria wouldn’t fight Ginny because she was too afraid to lose. Ginny wanted to tell Astoria she was wrong, but then she imagined Astoria voicing everything Ginny already knew she felt about Harry, and she decided maybe Astoria was right. If Astoria pushed too hard, Ginny would choose her easier, safer life. Maybe Astoria’s refusal to fight was a refusal to let go of Ginny. 

The fabric of Astoria’s shorts was light and soft as Ginny’s fingers absentmindedly tiptoed along the hem. Ginny didn’t want Astoria to have to tiptoe to have a place in her life. If Astoria wanted to be part of her life—not just the safe compartment Ginny kept her confined to—she had more than earned it. 

“You make me happy,” Ginny said quietly. “I want to make you happy too.” She looked at Astoria. Astoria was still looking up at the ceiling, but her breath seemed to be caught in her chest. “Are you okay?” 

Astoria looked at her, and her features calmed into a slightly breathless smile. She pulled herself back up, facing Ginny, and kissed her cheek. “You do make me happy, Ginny.” She paused, eyes wandering Ginny’s face. “So very, very happy.” Astoria brushed a loose bit of hair away from Ginny’s face, and for one wild second, Ginny thought Astoria was going to kiss her properly. But Astoria just twisted and laid down with her head on Ginny’s lap, smiling up at her. 

Ginny smiled back, shaking the thought from her mind, and tentatively placed her hand on Astoria’s bare shoulder. Astoria’s smile didn’t falter, and Ginny’s heart jumped. Feeling wild and reckless as she did it, Ginny let her hand roam Astoria’s skin. Astoria would know the name of each muscle Ginny’s fingers traced along her arm, but Ginny didn’t care what they were called. She’d asked for vulnerability, and Astoria had happily obliged. None of Astoria’s other attempts to soothe her conscious had quieted her screaming thoughts as much as this. 

Astoria closed her eyes. At some point, she fell asleep, Ginny’s fingers still dancing across her exposed skin. Ginny considered waking her—she probably needed to get back to St. Mungo’s—but Astoria looked too peaceful, and Ginny didn’t want to let her go.


	11. With a good heart, soft touch, fast horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calmed by her Astoria and Rhianna, Ginny prepares to face her family about the events of last night.

Some time later, there was a gentle knock on the door, and Rhianna crept into the living room. She looked at Astoria, still fast asleep in Ginny’s lap, and smiled.

“Feeling any better, Ginny?” Rhianna asked. 

“I think so,” Ginny said. “Yeah.” 

“I’m glad.” She paused, and her smile tensed slightly. “Listen, I need to go to work, but before I do, I just wanted you to know that I, er, really appreciate it, Ginny. Astoria says I need better standards, but honestly all I really was hoping for was that you wouldn’t hate me or think I’d, you know, do something to you.” 

“Do something to me?” Ginny couldn’t imagine Rhianna doing anything to anyone that wasn’t thoughtful and kind. Well, unless they were genocidal wankers like the Carrows, then she maybe would be just a _bit_ rude. 

“I mean something, er, gay.” Rhianna’s cheeks went pink, and her voice shot up at the last word. The suggestion was so absurd Ginny nearly burst out laughing. She thought that might embarrass Rhianna even more though, so she swallowed her laughter. 

“Oh, something gay? What was it you said? Vegetarian, short hair, baggy clothes?” Ginny grinned. “Is that what happened to Astoria? You did gay things to her, and now she’s vegetarian? You know, Rhianna, sometimes I think about not eating meat.” 

“Uh oh. You’re having gay thoughts, Ginny. That’s the first sign.” Rhianna relaxed and grinned back. 

“Thankfully, I only know one gay person, and she’s a good person. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Ginny didn’t totally understand being gay yet, but her questions were logistical (how does sex even work with two women?), not moral. They’d been friends since first year, and it sounded like Rhianna had always been gay. Kind, considerate, patient, good-natured, humble, and apparently gay—a good person.

“Thanks for helping demonstrate my point, Ginny.”

“Seriously, Rhianna, it would be pretty hypocritical of me to worry you might try to kiss me, seeing as I’m the one who tried to kiss you third year. I’m sure you’d at least have the decency to ask first instead of my usual method of kiss first, ask questions later.” 

“Oh, I had forgotten about that. I’m surprised you remember.”

“Wow, you don’t even remember,” Ginny teased. “I was absolutely gutted, you know.” Ginny actually had been pretty upset about it at the time.

“Heartbroken, I’m sure.” Rhianna rolled her eyes.

“I spent a lot of time researching how to kiss, and I wanted to teach you.”

“You watched that snogging portrait for two minutes—”

“It’s called Lovers at Sea, Rhianna, and it’s art.” In retrospect, it was definitely not art, and Ginny hadn’t the slightest clue why it was even at Hogwarts at all. It had given her a lot of bad information.

“There is no sea. You and Colin made that name up. It is the most minging portrait, and I could think of nothing more mortifying than re-enacting that disgusting thing with you.” 

“I’ll have you know that everyone else I’ve ever tried to kiss let me, and most of them even liked it. You’re a blight on my perfect record.” 

“Sorry. But just think how different you’d feel if you’d found out that I was gay after I’d kissed you.” Rhianna grimaced.

“Yeah, instead of the devastation of rejection, I’d know I was such a good kisser that you’d decided you wanted more where that came from.” Ginny couldn’t imagine being _upset_ that someone would enjoy snogging her. Ginny happened to like snogging people.

Rhianna put her hands over her face, which did nothing to hide just how red she was turning. “Merlin, you’re as bad as Astoria.”

“Well, someone has to lovingly embarrass you, and Astoria hasn’t moved in at least an hour.”

“You’ve been sitting like that for an hour?” Rhianna dropped her hands, and she seemed to be fighting back a laugh. 

“I reckon she’s pretty tired,” Ginny said. She didn’t see why Rhianna seemed to think it so funny. Probably an inside joke she and Astoria had, Ginny guessed.

“Well, Ginny, seriously, I appreciate it. Not that last bit because you and Astoria are both the worst, but, well, you know. I don’t need you to beat anyone up for me, but it’s nice to know you’re not just, I don’t know, pretending to care to shut Astoria up.”

“You’re my friend, Rhianna. Whatever makes you happy is good with me.” 

Rhianna smiled. “I have to go to work, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” She looked at Astoria again. “I don’t think she minds either.” Rhianna lit the fire and tossed in a handful of floo powder. “There are leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, or if you’re feeling adventurous, there’s some muggle money on the counter and a chippy down the street.”

“Thanks.” 

Rhianna stepped into the green flames, and then she was gone. 

  
  


Ginny was both relieved and disappointed when Astoria’s eyes finally fluttered open. Astoria reached up to knot her fingers in Ginny’s, and then she looked at Ginny, smiling sleepily. Ginny knew Astoria would wake up eventually, and as much as she wanted to just stay here in this peaceful moment, a restless urgency was quietly nagging at her. She needed to go home. 

“How’d I do?” Astoria said sleepily. “Did I soothe your troubled mind with the power of napping on you?”

“My mind does feel a lot less troubled, actually,” Ginny said. She ran her fingers across Astoria’s forehead and into her hair, and Astoria closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. 

“I’m glad I could help.” Astoria kept her eyes closed, breathing slowly, then added: “I don’t really want to wake up, but I know I need to. At the very least, I need to eat.” She opened her eyes and looked up at Ginny. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Okay. Working on convincing myself to get up.”

“I’m in no rush.”

Astoria closed her eyes again. “You are though. You’re ready to go home.” Astoria let go of Ginny’s hand and pushed herself up. She scooted next to Ginny, facing her, and again Ginny suddenly felt like Astoria was about to kiss her. But Astoria just buried her face on Ginny’s shoulder. “Okay. I’m up.”

“Do you want to come over for lunch?” Ginny asked suddenly. It was a wild, reckless idea. 

“What?” Astoria sat upright, frowning. 

“To my house.” Astoria looked at Ginny as if she’d just suggested they swallow live wasps. “You can meet my mum.”

“I’ve met your mum, Ginny.”

“Not properly, you haven’t.”

“I really don’t think your mum will be too thrilled if you run away and then come home the next day with a Death Eater.”

“You’re not a Death Eater.” Astoria started to argue, but Ginny put her hand over her mouth. Ginny had Astoria’s whole argument memorised by now. “If you don’t want to come, it’s okay. But I want you to.” Ginny let go of her mouth.

“I just get the feeling that this is one of your impulsive plans that you’re going to regret five minutes later when it turns out that other people don’t think I’m an absolute ray of sunshine. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, but I really don’t need or even want you to go parading me around like some well-trained dog. I’m good here.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“You’re not...good? You need me to be your show dog?” Astoria cocked an eyebrow. “Fine, I guess, but if you’re going to tie me up like that, can you at least make sure my collar isn’t real leather? That’s my only condition.” 

Walls. Miles and miles of walls. Astoria decorated her walls in sarcasm and crass jokes, but they were still walls. She was the Great Fucking Wall of China. Was that racist? Ginny didn’t know, and she didn’t have the emotional energy to unpack that today too. 

“Look,” Ginny said, “I said it’s fine if you don’t want to come, but I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided I want you to be a part of that part of my life too.”

“What, today?” Astoria said. “That’s your idea of giving something a lot of thought? Ginny, you can’t just _Parent Trap_ us into liking each other.” Ginny hadn’t a clue what a parent trap was. “I don’t want it, it’s not going to work, and you’re going to get _hurt_.” 

“I’m willing to risk getting hurt.”

“Well, maybe I don’t feel like risking you getting hurt.”

“Fine,” Ginny said irritably. “You don’t want to come over. I get it. My family are a bunch of—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

“Why? You obviously—”

“Stop trying to make this into a Shakespearean tragedy, Ginny. I don’t want to come over for some dramatic showdown with your parents while you row over me. If you want to go sit on your sofa instead of Rhianna’s or play quidditch or something, I’ve always been just fine coming over. You’ve just never wanted me over.”

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but then she closed it just as soon. It had never occurred to her to just...invite Astoria over. Astoria Greengrass at the Burrow felt like a capital T _Thing_. The date needed to be marked down. _The Daily Prophet_ would run a front-page story. Hexes would fly. George would come up with some horrific song and sing it anytime he felt like winding Ginny up (which was all the time). A violent storm would probably roll in to mark the occasion, the lightning casting dramatic shadows on their faces. It would be The Day Astoria Met the Weasleys, and Ginny wasn’t sure if everyone would make it out unscathed.

Why did Ginny think it had to be such a big deal? Sure, her family and the Greengrasses hated each other, especially after her eldest brothers went to school with Astoria’s exceptionally awful cousins. Astoria could hardly be considered a Greengrass though. Her parents had disowned her over a year ago, and she was the polar opposite of her cousins anyway. Maybe it didn’t need to be a big deal.

“Do you, er, want to come sit on my sofa instead of yours?” Ginny asked hesitantly.

Astoria sighed. “Today?” she asked.

“You don’t want to.”

“I’m just very aware that the only contact you’ve had with your family since punching Potter and running off with Malfoy last night—”

“I didn’t run off with Malfoy.”

“—is exactly none, so they’ve had plenty of chance to imagine horrible possibilities. I don’t think showing up with a Greengrass is exactly going to help. And honestly, I don’t really want to be associated with Draco.”

“You’re not—”

“Ginny,” Astoria practically growled. “I am fully capable of admitting that my public image is not exactly fantastic without assuming that means I am actually a horrible person. I am just telling you that if you want your family to hop aboard the Astoria Is Great Train, bringing me over right now is probably not your best bet.”

“Fine. When, oh wise one, is the perfect moment to bring you over then?”

“If you insist on having me go straight into the lion’s den—pun fully intended—I can check my work schedules and let you know if I’m free during normal waking hours sometime. Then we can sit on your sofa, and it’ll be just like sitting on this sofa, except with some added danger and terror, which I know you Gryffindor lot love.”

“What if your rare moment of free time doesn’t come when the stars are all perfectly aligned, Astoria?”

Astoria snorted. “I think I’ll live as long as you don’t go punching Potter again first.”

“I thought you _wanted_ me to punch him.”

“I meant privately in your bedroom. I thought he might be into that—or at least you sure seem to be.” Astoria grinned wickedly.

“Hey! Get your mind out of my bedroom, you bloody pervert,” Ginny teased. 

Ginny swung herself around and kicked Astoria in the thigh—hard. Astoria laughed and lunged for Ginny. Ginny managed to get her wand out and hit Astoria with a tickling charm, but Astoria, laughing and squirming uncontrollably, still managed to pin Ginny down mostly. Sort of. Okay, not really, but Ginny was too amused watching Astoria struggle to actually fight her properly.

“Real…” Astoria said between breaths, “funny… Ginny… Thought… we didn’t… use… magic.”

“You use magic all the time!” Ginny protested.

“Acci… dental… magic!”

“Bullshit. Just because it’s wandless doesn’t mean it’s an accident.”

Astoria looked for a moment like she thought she’d demonstrate a bit of “accidental” magic, but instead she just giggled and jerked some more. Ginny was pretty proud of that tickling charm. Astoria might have Ginny pinned down (debatable, really), but Ginny was clearly winning this fight. She was the one calm and in control here, for once.

Well, except that Astoria’s movements on top of Ginny were starting to send warm, distracting feelings through Ginny’s body. Especially between her legs, where Astoria’s leg kept suddenly pressing into Ginny as she jerked around. Not that Ginny particularly wanted Astoria to stop. She could have just cast _finite_ and stopped Astoria. She also could have just pushed Astoria off her since her grip on Ginny was so poor. 

Ginny wondered if Astoria had ever laid on Phil like this. Well, not with a tickling charm, obviously. It was a strange curiosity, but Ginny hoped Astoria hadn’t. Ginny hoped she was the only person who’d ever felt Astoria’s body sliding over hers, leg pressed between hers. Phil might have thought Astoria was “well fit”—and Ginny was now realising that yes, her friend was incredibly attractive and how had she not noticed this before—but he didn’t know Astoria like she did. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t—oh, fuck, Phil.

“Phil knows,” Ginny said as she suddenly remembered their conversation.

“What?” Astoria’s voice was serious, despite the breathless laughter it was punctuated with.

“ _Finite_. He said last night he knows we’re all ‘different’ or whatever.”

Astoria sat up, straddling Ginny’s hips. Ginny tried to ignore how warm she felt there. Astoria was clearly not at all distracted by warm feelings, judging by the seriousness of her face.

“What do you mean different?” Astoria asked. 

“He said he can feel energy or something like that when he touches any of us,” Ginny said.

Astoria swore.

“So I take it that’s bad?”

“Just a violation of the highest law in the entire wizarding world.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the right time for this thought, but Ginny couldn’t help it. Astoria was _thinking_ , and Merlin, she even made _thinking_ look attractive. Honestly, how did anyone attracted to women cope with Astoria existing around them? Astoria was right here, and Rhianna fancied Parkinson? Bullshit. Rhianna was probably just in denial because Astoria was straight. 

“Are you there, Ginny?” Astoria said.

Oh, shit, Ginny had gotten distracted. “What?” she said. She shook herself. Wonder at Rhianna’s choices in women later.

“I asked if you could tell me as best as you remember everything he said, exactly as he said it.”

“Oh. Er, I was pretty drunk. It was in the cab last night.”

“As best you can, Ginny.”

“Right.” So Ginny recounted the brief conversation as best she could, though she left out the part where Phil said Astoria was fit. She didn’t think she could say it without turning bright red herself.

Astoria ran a hand through her hair. Thinking. “I can fix this,” she said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than Ginny. “We have options. Not particularly amazing ones because the laws were written by purebloods with no regard for mixed families, but options nonetheless.”

Forget thinking. Irritably complaining about the unfair lot muggleborns face was “tear off Astoria’s clothes” levels of sexy. Not that Ginny wanted to do that. She was just observing that Astoria was attractive. And that Rhianna had definitely, 100% been lying about her lack of attraction to Astoria. If Ginny could notice this when she was straight and didn’t live with Astoria, no way Rhianna wasn’t seeing this. Oh, poor Rhianna. 

“You are really not paying attention, are you, Ginny?” Astoria said.

“What?” Ginny said.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Er.” Ginny wondered if she should tell her. Maybe she already knew. Astoria was usually pretty observant. “I think Rhianna fancies you,” Ginny said quietly. Her cheeks burned.

Astoria laughed. “What? Why on earth would you think that?”

“I just mean, well…” Ginny was quickly realising this had been a dumb thing to say. 

To make matters worse, Ginny’s brain suddenly supplied her with a wholly unrequested mental image of Astoria on top of Rhianna, snogging, hands all over each other, bodies pressed together. And Ginny’s body responded with a wave of heat, collecting right where Astoria was still sitting.

“She really doesn’t,” Astoria said. Her voice was normal, but she had a curious expression on her face, watching Ginny carefully. 

“She’s lying, Astoria.”

“Rhianna is the world’s worst liar.”

“She’s lied about how she feels about you before. In the war.”

“Trust me, Ginny. If she actually wanted me like that, she’s had a million opportunities. I’ve offered plenty of times. She’s really not interested.”

“You’ve _offered_?” Ginny asked. The thought was absolutely not helping.

“Well, yeah, like friends with benefits. She doesn’t have many options because she’s gay, and I’ve never had many because, you know, double life and all that, and we both have bodies full of teenage hormones. Seemed like an easy solution. Rhianna is _way_ too into her ridiculous star-crossed lovers fantasies though. And in any case, at this point, she’s my sister, so all offers have been rescinded.”

“I cannot possibly imagine you offering to be friends with benefits to anyone.”

“Hey, Ginny, want to be friends with benefits?” Astoria grinned, apparently oblivious to the heat she was sending through Ginny’s body with the mere suggestion. “There, now you don’t need to imagine.”

“I’m going to need more details on these benefits,” Ginny said, surprising herself with how easily she’d said it.

Astoria cocked an eyebrow. She put her hands on Ginny’s stomach and leaned forward. Her hair fell over Ginny’s face, and Ginny’s blood raced through her veins. Astoria was going to kiss her. She was going to _demonstrate_. But then Astoria just pressed her lips briefly to Ginny’s forehead and sat back up.

“Benefits and details about them are only available to people who aren’t currently in a monogamous relationship, sorry,” Astoria said. “I don’t make the rules.” Then Astoria swung herself off of Ginny and stood up. “I do actually need to eat though.”

And without a second glance at Ginny, Astoria left the room. Ginny groaned. Fuck. Harry. The thought of Harry only worsened the heat in Ginny’s body, but she resisted the urge to do something about it and sat up instead. She needed to have a serious conversation with Harry, and thinking about him like _that_ was definitely not going to help her focus. They could get to _that_ after he’d listened to her. _If_ , Ginny reminded herself. If he listened. She focused her mind on Harry last night, drunk and nasty and ignoring her, and she quickly sobered. Hopefully the thought was as effective with him right in front of her.

“I think I’m going home,” Ginny told Astoria when she found her in the kitchen, already eating, leaning lazily against the counter.

“Right, yeah,” Astoria said. She set her food down and held out her arms. “Good luck, Ginny.”

Ginny accepted the hug and squeezed back. 

“If things go bad,” Astoria said, “you’re always welcome here, or send me an owl if you need me to come over there. I mean it. I’d come if you thought it’d help.”

“Thanks, Astoria.”

“And if things go great, too. Or mediocre. Or however they go. I just mean you’re always welcome, and you can always ask me if you need back-up.”

“I know. Thanks, Astoria,” Ginny repeated. “Well, bye.”

“Bye.”


	12. Don’t step out of this house if that’s the clothes you gonna wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny arrives home and is immediately met by her mother, newspaper in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: homophobia, use of the word “queer” as an insult, mention of r*pe/sexual abuse

If Ginny had needed any more sobering up, she certainly got it when she arrived home. She’d barely made it through the door when her mother came charging at her, newspaper in hand, shrieking at Ginny. Ginny ducked the first swing, but her mum didn’t relent. Whacking Ginny with the paper to punctuate all of her accusations, Mum tore into Ginny with everything Ginny had done wrong since last night, jumping from one point to the next with no clear focus:

Everyone had, apparently, been worried sick. Ginny hadn’t been raised to behave like that, no, no. Oh, Harry was _such_ a wreck. Ron said she’d run off with Malfoy. They’d all split up looking for her. Brawling in The Leaky Cauldron! The audacity. Hermione had gotten Ginny’s owl, sure, but it had taken a while for her to pass the message on to everyone else. 

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione were surely going to face extra scrutiny at work thanks to Ginny. (Ginny tried telling Mum she’d been trying to _stop_ the fight, but there was no sense arguing once she got going.) And if Ginny wanted any chance at a quidditch team offering her a contract during the transfer window next month, brawling in public was not going to help. (Ginny thought about pointing out how often famous quidditch players got into pub brawls with no harm to their careers, but then she realised all the ones she could think of were men. Not a great argument.)

And poor, poor Harry! (Merlin, every other sentence was pity for Harry.) He had been so distraught and so confused. He wasn’t angry, Mum assured her. He just wanted to make sure Ginny was okay. Harry was so very worried about her last night. Bleeding all over the place until Mum had mended his nose, but also very worried, what a sweet boy. Merlin, the way she was berating Ginny, you’d think Harry was the one who was actually her kid, not Ginny.

“And on his birthday, Ginny!” her mum said as she whacked Ginny’s head for the millionth time. Ginny’s heart stopped. Oh, fuck, Harry’s birthday. Last night was Friday, which made today Saturday, 31 July. Harry’s birthday. Okay, she deserved that whack. Ginny had completely forgotten his birthday.

“Okay, okay, Mum, I get it,” Ginny said finally, ducking the latest swing of the newspaper. “I was just coming over to change before going over to talk to him, okay?”

Her mum finally stopped trying to whack some sense into Ginny and looked at her properly. “Where’d you get that?” Mum asked. “You don’t like the Arrows.”

“They’re Astoria’s team,” Ginny said, attempting to sound casual. “If you’d been listening, I told you I stayed over at Rhianna’s last night. Astoria lives there, you know. She put them out before she went to work because she thinks she’s hilarious.”

“Astoria?” Mum frowned.

“Greengrass,” Ginny said, doing her best attempt at a “duh, mum, everyone knows that, don’t be weird about it” voice. “She’s Rhianna’s best friend. Rhianna’s mum took her in when her parents kicked her out.”

“Delyth Owens? Isn’t she muggleborn?”

“Merlin’s beard, Mum, yes.” Okay, so Mum definitely thought Astoria had a problem with muggleborns. Nevermind, you know, risking her life constantly in the war to help stop the wankers trying to kill muggleborns. Bloody hell.

“I didn’t know Rhianna was friends with her.”

“I’m friends with her, Mum. I’m wearing her bloody clothes supporting her bloody quidditch team.”

“Why didn’t Rhianna let you borrow her clothes?”

“Merlin’s soggy _pants_ , Mum,” Ginny moaned. “If I really didn’t want to wear Astoria’s team, I would have just taken something else out of her closet. Rhianna and I aren’t the same size anyway. Astoria’s clothes fit me better.”

“Well, dear, it’s just a bit…” Mum stopped and shook her head.

“It’s what, Mum?” Ginny’s temper flared. “Do you seriously have a problem with me being friends with Astoria?”

“No, Ginny, dear, it’s fine.”

“Fine? I have your permission to be friends with someone who risked her life a million times to keep me and the rest of the school safe from the Carrows? I swore that in court when I testified last summer, by the way. You can’t lie in court. She really—”

“I believe you, Ginny.”

“Then what on _earth_ is your problem with me wearing Astoria’s bloody quidditch team?”

“Nothing.”

“No, Mum, you clearly have a problem.”

“I’m just not sure you realise Greengrass is…” Mum frowned. Whatever it was she thought Astoria was, it was clearly something truly awful if she kept stopping herself from actually saying it.

“Is…?”

“Well, you know, a bit funny.”

“Funny?”

“It’s nothing, dear. I just don’t want—” Mum sighed. “Sorry, Ginny, it’s silly. Ignore me. She’s your friend. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“No, Mum, I really want to know what you think is so _funny_ about Astoria.”

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with it,” she said as if there absolutely was something wrong with it, “and I’m sure you’re smart enough to stay safe, but she’s, well—” Bloody hell, just say it. “It’s just a bit funny that she’s having you wear her clothes is all.”

“What? Mum, everyone wears each other’s clothes. Hermione’s borrowed mine a million times when she’s stayed here.”

“Oh, I know, Ginny. This is silly, okay?”

“What is so bloody funny about Astoria, Mum?”

Mum sighed. “I’ve told you it’s just _fine_ , Ginny.” Ginny glared. “Oh, fine. She’s a bit, you know, queer is all.” Mum looked at her as if it was somehow Ginny’s fault she’d just called someone—one of Ginny’s closest friends even— _queer_. Wrong, dirty, perverted. _Queer_.

Ginny opened and closed her mouth several times. _What_? There was so much to unpack, and Ginny had so many questions for her mother. What the fuck, why the fuck, how the fuck—those sorts of questions. 

Instead, Ginny pulled up Astoria’s Arrows shirt and rubbed it on her face. “Oh no, Mum!” Ginny said sarcastically. “Astoria’s clothes are giving me the gay! It’s too late for me! Save yourself!” 

“Ginny!” her mum said.

But Ginny didn’t care what she had to say, and she ran up the stairs and locked herself, shaking with anger, in her room. She threw herself down on her bed and pulled her pillow over her head. While her head swirled, unable to even find any one thread of anger to focus on, one clear thought came out: Ginny _did_ want to know who of her friends and family had a problem with gay people. This morning, she thought she was angry that anyone would say or do anything homophobic around her, but, no, she had definitely pushed her mum to say whatever it was she had to say about Astoria. She wanted to know exactly who had a fucking problem with gay people.

And now Ginny wanted to know who else thought Astoria was a bit _queer_ too. Did anyone still even say “queer” like that? For fuck’s sake. Why the fuck would her mum even believe some ridiculous Hogwarts rumours? Because, sure, it wasn’t like no one had ever suggested Astoria was gay before. Just about every Slytherin was rumoured to be gay at one point or another. They hadn’t called them the In- _queer-_ sitorial Squad for nothing, after all. 

But they’d made up all kinds of things about that lot. There’d even been a rumour one year that Malfoy was only sexually interested in apples for some ridiculous reason. Baseless, pointless rumours, half of which made exactly zero sense anyway. But apparently some people—her mum!—actually thought the rumours weren’t just a steaming pile of dragon dung made up by bored, petty teenagers. Bloody hell. 

Not that Ginny would give a flying splintered broomstick if Astoria were actually gay. What the fuck did her mother think would happen if Astoria was gay? A deep rage gripped her. Rhianna had actually somehow been worried Ginny would think she’d “do something” to her just because she was gay. Did her mum think Astoria would fucking rape Ginny if she were into girls? Ginny wanted to scream. She’d thought Rhianna was just silly for worrying, but did people really think that about gay people?

It was a dumb question. Of course people thought that. That’s exactly the sort of thing they’d implied about all the Slytherins they’d accused of being gay—not that they just happened to fancy people of the same gender, but that they might _touch_ someone who wasn’t. That’s what her mum thought of Astoria, apparently. She probably thought Astoria had picked out the Arrows clothes because Astoria secretly thought it was just so sexy if Ginny wore it. Fucking hell, in that case, Ginny hoped Astoria thought it was the sexiest thing in the entire world and had some great memories to wank to now. Who gave a shit? It was just as laughable to suggest Astoria would “do something” to Ginny as it was to suggest that of Rhianna.

And, Merlin, the _irony_ of Ginny’s mum thinking she should borrow Rhianna’s clothes to be safe from the scary, awful, supposedly gay Astoria. Mum had always liked Rhianna. Would she think the same awful things about her if she’d known Rhianna was gay? Just because Rhianna thought maybe she’d one day marry a woman? You know, exactly the thing some of Ginny’s brothers had already done? Ugh, so what if she thought women were lush? Women _were_ lush. Ginny didn’t have to want to have sex with them to see that.

Ginny’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Mum. Come to apologise and tell Ginny she hadn’t really meant it or something like that probably. She was just _looking out_ for Ginny. Because Ginny couldn’t tell the difference between a decent person and Voldemort. Because was Ginny was too dumb and stupid and naïve to pick good people herself. As if Ginny wasn’t constantly paranoid about that already. As if she hadn’t learned her lesson from Riddle. Her family was never going to trust her judgement, were they?

“Go away!” Ginny shouted at the door.

“Ginny—” her mum started to say.

“I said go away!”

Ginny knew her mum wouldn’t listen though, so she jumped out of bed, swung the door open, glared at her mum, and left the Burrow.

Ginny took several calming breaths before knocking. The anger she was feeling was for her mum, she reminded herself. She’d start this conversation off calm but firm. No need to let her temper get the best of her. Temper in check, Ginny knocked on the front door.

“Ginny,” Harry said when he opened the door. He looked tired. Despite herself, Ginny was relieved to see his nose looked fine, if not ever so slightly crooked. 

“Can I come in?” she asked. He shrugged and stepped back to let her in. “I’m, er, glad your nose is okay.”

“Your mum mended it.” Harry closed the door behind her, and they both just stood for a minute, staring. 

“Can we talk?”

Again, Harry shrugged. He walked to his bedroom, and Ginny followed, only going as far as the doorway.

“You can come in,” Harry said.

“I’m good here.” 

She didn’t really feel like being alone inside Harry’s bedroom. That was a quick road to getting distracted, and she wasn’t going to let hormones get in the way of this conversation. Harry didn’t seem to like it, but he didn’t argue either. 

“I need to say something,” Ginny said, “and I need you to just listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ginny took a deep breath, summoning up her courage. “The stuff you and Ron said last night to Malfoy—all that crap about him being gay or having a boyfriend like it’s funny—if I ever hear you talking like that about anyone again, it’s over, okay? I don’t care if it’s Malfoy, I don’t care if you’re drunk, I don’t care if it’s a bloody quidditch song. I’m not dating someone who makes fun of gay people. Do you understand?” 

“I didn’t—” Harry started to say, but he stopped himself. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good. Back to listening.” 

Harry nodded. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, trying to hold onto her courage. This part was the hard part. She opened her eyes. 

“Astoria Greengrass is my friend,” Ginny said. “I never told you because you’re always such a prat about her, even though I’ve told you a million times she was on our side. You can just ask Hermione though. Astoria is one of my best friends, and she’s a _good person_. That’s where I went last night. So you can stop talking shit about her too.” 

Ginny was shaking. It shouldn’t be this hard to say she was friends with someone, especially someone who had risked her life for Ginny, but Harry didn’t like _any_ Slytherins. Except Snape. Snape had apparently had a thing for Harry’s mum, so Harry had just forgiven him for everything. Somehow Astoria was an opportunist for spying, but Snape was a hero. Harry logic.

“I’m, er, glad you were okay last night,” Harry said after a minute. Ginny didn’t know what she had been expecting him to say, but that certainly felt like avoiding the issue. Whatever. She’d said it. The kneazle was out of the bag now, so she could finally be done worrying about what he’d think or say if he knew. “So is Greengrass, er—?” Harry started. He closed his mouth. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shook his head. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Ginny stared. She hadn’t expected Harry to just, well, listen, and it was unsettling. It felt like he was just waiting for her to be done yelling at him. Harry was the sort to yell back. She didn’t want him to yell back, but it felt wrong that he’d just...sit there. Had he really heard her? Did he really care? Or was he just hoping that if he kept his mouth shut long enough, she’d shut up, and everything would be fine again? Ginny shook her head and let her shoulders relax. Not now. Not today. 

“Do you want to come in now?” He smiled hopefully. Did she want to come in? That’s all he had to say? She could have broken his nose again.

“No, Harry.” Ginny didn’t bother to watch his face fall. Instead, she just turned her back on him, walked down the hall, and knocked on Ron’s door. 

“Oh, Ginny!” Hermione said when Ron opened the door. She pushed Ron out of the way and hugged Ginny. “I thought I heard your voice. We were so worried last night. I’m glad you sent an owl. Where did you go?”

“Sorry. I stayed with Astoria.”

“Astoria who?” Ron asked. “Astoria _Greengrass_?” 

“She’s my friend,” Ginny said.

Ron frowned but didn’t argue. 

“Anyway, I just need to say one thing.” Ginny said. “You were bang out of order last night, Ron, okay? You and Harry both. I’ve already told him, and I’m telling you too. One of my friends is gay, and it’s a bloody embarassment to have my own brother and boyfriend yelling out a bunch of homophobic rubbish in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron for everyone to hear. Grow up, okay?”

“Wait, who’s gay?” Ron asked.

“Great. You’ve missed the point entirely.”

“No, I heard you. No making fun of Malfoy for being a pansy.”

“Ronald!” Hermione said.

“I said I heard, all right?” Ron said. “Just make fun of him for being a slimy git instead next time. I can do that.” 

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” Ginny said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Ginny started down the hall, but Hermione followed and caught her arm. “Are you leaving?” Hermione asked.

“Yes.” 

“I’m sorry about last night. I should have done more to stop them.”

“Yeah, well, it’s done now.”

“They don’t mean it, you know. It’s only Malfoy. They wouldn’t—”

“They would and they do. And anyway, you’re one to talk. You told me you couldn’t even be _friends_ with someone who’s gay.” 

“ _What_?” Hermione looked at Ginny like she had just grown three new heads. 

“Back at school, when you were having a laugh about Harry being obsessed with Malfoy. You joked that Harry might fancy him and said you couldn’t be friends with ‘someone like that.’”

“Oh, no, Ginny,” Hermione said gently. “No, I meant I couldn’t be friends with _Malfoy_. Because he’s a horrible person, not because of who he wants to sleep with. You know, like if Harry suddenly said they were secretly friends all along like you and Astoria. It was a bad joke. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t stop being friends with anyone for being gay. I’m so sorry you thought that’s what I meant. I wish you’d said something, Ginny.” 

Hermione was being sincere. Finally, someone in this flat was being _sincere_. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like Astoria had been right about Hermione. Maybe she was right that the others could change too. 

“Oh,” Ginny said. “Well, er, thanks.” She wasn’t really sure what else to say. She’d been holding fast to her rage, and now she didn’t really know what to do without it. Her throat started to burn, but Ginny swallowed back the tears. Not now. 

“I’ll say something if I hear them talking like that, okay? You’re right. It’s not okay.” Hermione looked a bit like she might cry too. “I really am sorry about that Malfoy joke, Ginny. And if your friend is someone I know, could you just tell whoever it is that I support them?” Oh, no, Ginny was definitely going to cry. “Your friend is very brave. I’ve read about the sort of things gay people go through—it’s truly awful.” Deep breaths, Ginny. “The laws are all so terrible too, but I’m hoping to get those changed at least.”

Well, so much for Ginny’s decision to not cry. Hermione could be a bit much at times with her pushy “pet issue of the week,” but Ginny would gladly take all the pushy, anti-homophobia Hermione she could get right now. Ginny wasn’t sure if she hugged Hermione first, or Hermione hugged her, but either way, they were hugging each other tightly, both suddenly crying like idiots. 

When they eventually let go of each other, wiping tears off their faces, Ginny said, “I’ll pass the message on.” 

Down the hall, a door creaked. Ginny spun around.

“Hey, Ginny,” Neville said as he strode toward them. When he caught up with them, he gave Ginny a quick hug.

“Hey, Ne—” Ginny started to say.

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. That was my fault. We were all—me, Harry, and Ron, that is—we were acting like a bunch of idiot schoolboys. I should have listened to you, Ginny. And, honestly, I shouldn’t have needed you to say anything either. Harry and Ron were—well, the stuff they were saying about Malfoy just wasn’t on.”

“Thanks, Neville. I’m sorry about running off. I went to—”

“Astoria’s. I know.”

“What?”

Neville laughed. “She sent me an owl just a bit ago. Jinxed it, of course. Turned my fingers into limp noodles.” He held up his hands, which looked perfectly normal. “Well, it’s worn off already, but they were completely useless for a few minutes.”

“What’d she say?”

“Oh, she just called me a limp noodle—hence the jinx—and said I should punch them myself next time.” Neville rolled his eyes but smiled. “I was going to have a word with them both now, actually.”

“Good. I just told them off, but feel free to pile on. My mum’s been a right bitch to me about it. Perfect fucking Harry did nothing wrong, apparently.”

“She and your dad both had a go at him, actually,” Hermione said. 

“Hermione was the only one of us who even thought to go after you,” Neville said.

“So they only care that he didn’t go save the fucking damsel in distress?” Ginny spat. “They’re not actually upset he’s picking fights in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron?”

“I picked that fight, Ginny,” Neville said. “I know Harry and Ron made it a lot worse, but I started that one. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. They were just trying to have my back. In the worst way they could, but—”

“That’s a heaping pile of dragon shit, Neville, and you know it. They were both looking for a fight.”

“Well, yeah, but I still gave it to them.” 

“Tell that to my mum. She thinks I started it, as if everyone was just having a grand old time, acting chummy with our good friend Draco Malfoy, and then I punched Harry out of nowhere. It’s always me. It’s always my fault with her. Harry was a perfect, sweet angel who never did anything wrong until I came along and ruined her son.”

Neither Neville nor Hermione seemed to have anything to say that. Ginny knew she was being cruel. Harry didn’t have a family of his own, and she was usually grateful that he at least had her family. It made fights with Harry a lot harder though. With anyone else, and she could have trusted her family to take her side no matter what, even if she was entirely in the wrong, no questions asked. But Harry didn’t have a family to take his side, so her mum could never side against him. 

“Well, er,” Neville said awkwardly, “I’m just going to have a quick word with them and make sure they know I’m not okay with any of that rubbish, okay? I’m sorry about your mum, Ginny.”

Ginny sighed, trying to convince her temper to quiet down. “Yeah. Thanks, Neville,” Ginny said.

Neville walked past Ginny and Hermione and disappeared into Ron’s room.

“I take it you’re not planning on going home before the party?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t particularly want to, no,” Ginny said. “Not like I want to be here either though.”

“Want to come with me to Diagon Alley then? I haven’t gotten Harry his gift yet.”

“Hermione Granger? Waiting until the day of to get someone’s birthday gift?”

“I know. Work’s just been mad. So do you want to come? We’ve still got some time before the party, and you seem like you could use an ice cream.”

“I could probably use an ice cream.”


	13. I think I thought I saw you try, but that was just a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After confronting her friends and family, Ginny joins Hermione for a trip to Diagon Alley before Harry’s birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: homophobia, mention of violence against LGBTQ+ people, use of the word “queer” as an insult, use of “f*ggot” as an insult, sexist language (“slag”)

Ice cream helped. Hermione helped. The obvious whispering about Ginny by people who’d seen _The Daily Prophet_ didn’t help, but Ginny mostly tuned it out. It was hardly the first time, after all.

Hermione, unsurprisingly, had decided to get Harry a book, so they ended up in Flourish and Blotts. 

“I wonder if they have a gay and lesbian section here,” Hermione mused once she’d picked out Harry’s book, something to do with quidditch. “I don’t know a whole lot about the history and laws in the wizarding world for that sort of thing, if I’m honest. Is Rhianna working? She’d probably know if there’s a section.”

“We could just ask at the counter,” Ginny said quickly. Would it embarrass Rhianna if Hermione asked that? Would she think Ginny had told Hermione? Would Hermione put two and two together if she saw Rhianna?

“I’m sure Rhianna of all people wouldn’t have anything bad to say about it, Ginny. Better than trying to explain to that old wizard anyway.”

And without a word, Hermione set off to find Rhianna. Ginny followed, and they soon found Rhianna waving a pile of books neatly into place down one of the aisles. 

“Oh, Rhianna, there you are,” Hermione said. 

Rhianna looked up and smiled. “Hey,” she said. Then she looked at Ginny and smiled even more. “I see you’re still an Arrows fan.”

Ginny’s face went slightly pink. 

“Is there a gay and lesbian section?” Hermione asked. 

“Oh, Ginny told you,” Rhianna said as she stood up. Ginny quickly shook her head. “We don’t really have a specific section here. We have some books on the subject, but they’re sorted by their main category. What were you looking for?”

“Oh, you know, history, politics, law—that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure if we have anything like that specifically gay and lesbian, but let’s check. Hold on.” 

Rhianna put the last of the books into place and then led them through the store to what was easily Hermione’s favourite section. Rhianna scanned the shelves and started pulling out books and handing them to Hermione.

“Check these ones,” Rhianna said. “They might have some of what you’re looking for.”

When she had finished pulling out books for Hermione, Ginny pulled her aside.

“I swear I didn’t tell her,” Ginny whispered. 

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Rhianna said. “It’s not really a secret now. I only kept it quiet because, well, school. Between quidditch and sharing a dorm with a bunch of other girls, I didn’t really want things to get weird. Especially with Astoria sleeping over so much. She gets plenty of stupid rumours without me giving everyone a reason to pile-on even more.”

“Astoria slept over at school? What, like on the floor?” Rhianna’s cocked eyebrow gave Ginny her answer. “Oh. Yeah, I can see how that might get, er—” Ginny’s brain supplied her with a mental image of Astoria and Rhianna in a tiny, four-poster bed, very much not sleeping with their bodies that close together. “—misinterpreted.” 

“Well, I don’t really care who knows now, so don’t worry about it. Honestly, it’s just awkward and tiring to come out to people.”

“I really didn’t tell her. I just mentioned one of my friends was gay is all. I didn’t say who. She’s just being, you know, a bit Hermione about it.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Rhianna looked back at Ginny’s clothes again. “I still can’t believe you haven’t burned these yet.” 

“I was going to, but then my mum flipped out about me wearing Astoria’s clothes.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, Ginny.”

“She thinks it’s ‘queer.’” Ginny rolled her eyes to make it clear just how ridiculous she thought her mum was. 

“Wait, what? The Arrows?”

“Astoria letting me wear her clothes. My mum thinks I should have borrowed yours. Safely heterosexual, right?”

Rhianna laughed. “Oh, god, Ginny. Your mum didn’t actually—?”

“She absolutely did. So I just rubbed the shirt all over my face and told her I caught the gay.”

Rhianna laughed. “See, I told you. Should have forced the chicken on you the other day.”

“Should I warn Hermione? Oh, no, and I hugged Neville earlier, too. Do you think they’ve both caught it?”

“Caught what?” Hermione asked. 

“The gay,” Rhianna said. “I’m infecting people, see.”

“You’re—? Oh. Oh!” Hermione dropped her books and threw her arms around Rhianna. “I hope you know I support you one hundred percent.” Hermione let go and stepped back.

“I noticed.” 

“Honestly, I’d actually assumed it was—well, it just goes to show you shouldn’t assume. I’m happy for you though. Obviously, you know, it’s very hard, and there’s so much ignorance about it, but you’ve got friends now.” 

Rhianna nodded to the books on the floor. “Any of them have what you’re looking for?” Her voice sounded perfectly friendly, but Ginny caught a hint of annoyance in her eye. 

Hermione seemed a bit put off by the sudden change of subject. “Oh, well, not really. There’s a bit, but I was hoping for more than just a chapter here or there.”

“If you really want that sort of thing, there’s a muggle bookshop not far from here that’ll have more. It’s a gay bookshop. My mum’s taken me loads over the years.” There was just the slightest hint of a challenge in Rhianna’s voice. Ginny doubted Hermione noticed. “They have a wizarding section. Just tell the person at the front you’re from the Scottish boarding school.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect. I didn’t realise that sort of thing even existed. Where is it?”

“Right by Russell Square. I can grab you the address. I’m sure I have one of their bookmarks.”

“That would be perfect.” Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, I don’t know if there’s time for a trip to the muggle side today though. Maybe if we hurry—”

“They’re open every day.”

“Oh, well, yes, of course, I suppose.”

“I’ll go see if I can find the address. Hold on.”

Rhianna left and returned a couple minutes later with a bookmark in hand. 

“Here,” Rhianna said. “The address is on there.” She handed it to Hermione, who stuck it into one of the books she was holding. Before Hermione closed the book, Ginny caught a brief look: it was black with large pink letters that said “GAY’S THE WORD.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “I suppose I’ll just go pay for these.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Ginny told her.

As soon as Hermione was out of earshot, Rhianna said, “How much do you want to bet she comes out with S. L. A. G. badges next week for the Society for Loving All Gays?” 

“I’d actually wear that one,” Ginny laughed. “Slag and proud.”

“Listen, Ginny—” 

But whatever Ginny was supposed to hear was lost as Rhianna’s attention was suddenly pulled away. Ginny spun around to see what had caught her attention, but there was nothing, just the bookshop. She looked back at Rhianna. Her face was quickly turning bright red, and she had her lips pressed down, fighting back what seemed to be an exceptionally big grin. Rhianna looked away, avoiding Ginny’s gaze.

“What?” Ginny said. “What’s going on?”

Rhianna shut her eyes tight. 

“Are you all right?” Ginny asked.

“Yep,” Rhianna said, voice high. She put her hands over her face and made a small, whimpering sound. 

“You don’t seem all right.”

Rhianna took a deep, steadying breath, and looked at Ginny. “I’ll tell you later. I have to get back to work.”

“Rhianna—”

“I have a customer.” She grinned, turned, and left without so much as a goodbye. 

Ginny fought back the urge to follow her. Instead, she went to find Hermione, who was just finishing paying when Ginny caught up to her. They walked out to the street. Ginny glanced back through the window, curiosity nagging her, and found Rhianna. Her back was to the window as she leaned casually against the shelves. She was talking to someone who seemed to be kneeling to reach a lower shelf. Ginny couldn’t really see the other person.

But then Rhianna held out her hand and pulled the other person to their feet. Just as Hermione led them away, Ginny caught a fleeting glance of Pansy Parkinson, smiling at Rhianna. Merlin’s ratty beard. Smiling? Was she really smiling? But Ginny didn’t get a second look as Hermione—who was too busy listing off the many ways in which gay people were discriminated against in society to notice Ginny’s distraction—continued on down the street.

Ginny was certainly going to hold Rhianna to her promise to tell her later. 

By the time they left Diagon Alley, Ginny was actually grateful to go home. She was glad that Hermione was on her side and wanted to make things better for Rhianna and anyone else, but Hermione’s relentless litany of problems gay people faced was more than Ginny could handle. Hermione seemed to be talking about distant strangers—upset, but detached—but Ginny just kept thinking of Rhianna. Brutal murders, homelessness, dying in large numbers of some sort of disease while the government did nothing—every fact Hermione recited felt like a nail in Rhianna’s coffin. 

Hermione’s rambling had done nothing to soften Ginny’s opinion of her mother either. Whatever commiserating with Rhianna had done to lessen Ginny’s anger, Hermione undid it and more. How her mother could call anyone _queer_ , much less someone Ginny had just said was her friend, felt like the ultimate betrayal. Her mum could be overbearing and embarrassing, and she and Ginny fought plenty, but Ginny had always trusted that, when it came to what really mattered, they would be on the same side.

Harry and Ron acting like twats wasn’t really surprising. They were drunk, it was Malfoy, and Ginny had seen it play out countless times before. She’d participated herself plenty of times even. They were young and stupid and had a terrible hold on their tempers (especially after that many drinks). It was wrong, but the only betrayal Ginny felt from that was the realisation that she’d been lying to herself. She hadn’t needed Astoria to yell at her or even Rhianna to come out to know the things they said about Malfoy were wrong. She was angry with them because she was angry with herself. 

But her mum was different. Her mum was supposed to be better. She’d taught Ginny to stick up for muggleborns. She had reprimanded her when she would come home repeating racist things other kids said at school. She’d taught Ginny to care about people who were less fortunate and more vulnerable than them. And then she’d turned around and called Astoria ‘queer’ like it was something dirty and dangerous—while actual gay people were out getting brutally murdered for simply being gay. 

Her mum should have been telling the lot of them off for bothering Malfoy at all, let alone for something as asinine as who he wanted to have sex with. She should have been on Ginny’s side, reassuring her that she’d done the right thing in standing up to Harry, telling her to pay _The Daily Prophet_ and its constant shit-stirring no mind. Ginny had expected to be yelled at (“Solve things with your words, Ginny!”), but how her mum could possibly be on the same side as people who were doing all the things Hermione kept talking about was a betrayal of everything Ginny had trusted about her mother. 

So Ginny avoided her. It was a small party, hardly more than ten people, but she managed to avoid talking to her the entire evening. She was helped (unintentionally, Ginny suspected) by Hermione, who seemed to be repeating her litany of homophobic horror stories to Ginny’s mum and anyone else who would listen. Merlin, it really was S.P.E.W. all over again. Hopefully Rhianna wanted some knit hats.

“Was she that awful?” Harry said quietly. He sat down next to Ginny where she’d been sitting with Percy’s new girlfriend, Audrey. Percy had called her over to see something George was doing, and Ginny hadn’t bothered following.

“Audrey? No, she’s fine,” Ginny said. “She’s actually funny, which is weird because, you know, Percy.”

“I meant your mum. You’re avoiding her.”

“Oh.”

“I’m guessing she chewed your head off too?”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ginny said darkly. “She’s solidly on your side. Beating up gay people is just good old fashioned Weasley fun, after all.”

Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, Ginny. It was stupid. It was—Ron was—I mean—” Harry groaned and threw his head back. “Your mum doesn’t think that, you know. You, Hermione, Neville, your mum last night, your dad this morning—everyone’s had a go at me. Even George was having a laugh at me earlier for it, and Percy’s been trying to lecture Ron all night.”

“Oh, wow, really have it hard there, don’t you? Lectured by Percy. That’s gotta be awful. How will you ever survive, Harry?”

Harry just looked at her sadly. It only worsened Ginny’s temper.

“Real brave of everybody to finally say something after _The Daily Prophet_ ’s run a front-page story, you know. They don’t care one shit about Malfoy or whoever you threw across the pub or any actual gay people. All anyone cares about is the fucking _optics_ . It’s not _polite_ to attack people in public. You’ve gotta keep your bigotry a bit quieter than that. Wouldn’t want to have any trouble at work. Save it for the quidditch pitch, right?”

“You’re right.”

“I’m right? You want to go hide behind a broom so you can call Malfoy a faggot some more? Why the fuck do you care so much about who Malfoy is or isn’t sleeping with, Harry? Honestly, why do you even care about his life at all? You’re the one who made sure he didn’t go to Azkaban. I thought you felt bad for him, but I guess you just couldn’t bear the thought of not having him around to harass all the time. What a shame he went into hiding anyway.”

“I was drunk, okay?” Harry snapped. Merlin, finally. 

“So was I. So was Hermione. Hell, Neville was drunk, too, and he was being a prat, but he didn’t feel the need to announce to an entire pub that he hates gay people.”

“I don’t hate gay people.” 

“Could have fooled me.”

“Fucking hell, Ginny, I’ve told you I’m sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have gone after Malfoy last night.”

“Last night? You think I’m just upset about last night? You think that I’m just upset you said that shit in _public_? You think I’m just fine with every other time you’ve said that sort of shit, and not just about Malfoy?”

“Actually, yeah,” Harry said hotly. “You’ve never had a problem with it before.”

Ginny tried to snap back at him, but her brain seemed to have suddenly run out of words. She stammered out disjointed words, desperate to hold onto her rage, desperate to keep arguing, desperate to avoid facing the real source of her anger. And she was just really fucking tired of crying.

But as her grip on her anger slipped, her throat started to burn. Ginny blinked, trying to keep herself together, trying not to let Harry see her, trying to hold off the tsunami of guilt that had been looming larger and larger until it finally engulfed her. 

“Shit, Ginny, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

Then he put his arm over her shoulder, and Ginny was swallowed by the tsunami. She leaned into his shoulder and cried for what felt like the millionth time in the last 24 hours. Happy birthday, Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gay's The Word is a fantastic bookshop, and so worth a visit if you are ever in London. It's been serving the LGBTQ+ community for over 40 years. And if you're not in London, they ship internationally. Now is a great time to support them: http://www.gaystheword.co.uk/


	14. This way is a water slide away from me that takes you further every day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a birthday gift, Ginny takes a Harry and his friends out to see an exhibition match with Harry’s favourite quidditch team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of violence against muggles, mention of death (just the concept of it)

> Tuesday, 3 August 1999. Harry’s flat. Early evening.

“They’ll be here soon,” Hermione reassured Ginny. “I know Harry’s been looking forward to it.”

Ginny glanced back at the clock. They really should have left by now. Harry, Ron, and Neville had all gotten cleared to leave work early, and they instead seemed to be working late. Tonight, the five of them were supposed to go to an exhibition match between the Pride of Portree and some American club—the Los Angeles Supernovas or something like that. It was Harry’s birthday gift.

Ginny had split the cost of the tickets fifty-fifty with Ron. It had cost most of her wages for the summer just for those two and a half tickets. Not that Harry knew though. Horrified to realise it would have cost most of her summer wages, Harry had tried to pay Ginny back and flipped out at Ron for letting her spend so much money. So they lied to him. As far as Harry knew, Ginny only paid for one seat: Harry’s seat. He still thought it was too expensive of a gift, but he grudgingly accepted. 

Finally, Ginny heard the door open, and she sat up. A moment later, Harry and Ron walked into the small living room where she had been waiting with Hermione. 

“Oh, there you are,” Ginny said brightly. “I was starting to worry. Ready?”

“Where’s Neville?” Hermione asked. Oh, right, Neville.

Harry and Ron exchanged a dark look. 

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked.

“He’s not coming,” Harry said, making a failed attempt at sounding casual. There was something sharp and harsh hiding in his voice. “Something, er, came up at work.” His eyes flickered over to Ginny for a moment and then quickly away. 

“C’mon,” Ron said. “We shouldn’t miss much if we leave now. Portree are probably going to run up the score as long as they can anyway.” Unlike Harry, he sounded perfectly casual, unconcerned with whatever was keeping Neville. 

Harry looked at Ginny uncertainly. 

“What?” Ginny asked him. 

“Nothing,” Harry said. He shook his head. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They had missed all the opening ceremonies, but the match had only just started by the time they found their seats. Portree were already up 40-0. The poor American team would be lucky to even score once tonight. Ron and Hermione went off to grab food from one of the stands, so Ginny turned to Harry.

“So what’s happened with Neville?” she asked quietly.

“I told you. It’s just something with work.” He leaned forward, peering toward Potree’s goalposts, where their keeper was lounging, bored. “You know, I think Lopez is actually going to take a nap,” he said.

“You would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t immediately try to change the subject, Harry. Is Neville okay?”

Harry looked back at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the pitch. “Yeah, he’s fine. It’s really nothing, Ginny. Just Auror stuff.” His voice sounded stiff.

“Is everyone _else_ okay?”

“Look, just drop it, okay? It’s not my case. I don’t know. Neville is handling it.” The way he said Neville’s name—filled with poorly veiled contempt—did nothing to reassure Ginny. 

“So that’s a no.”

“I told you. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. Just stop asking me.” Harry was clearly making an effort to sound nonchalant, but he was doing an absolute shit job of it.

Ginny sighed and resigned herself to asking Neville later. Hopefully everyone was okay. If it had been really serious, Harry wouldn’t have come to see a bloody quidditch match anyway. It was probably nothing.

The match was, depending on who you supported, either incredible or horrific. Portree’s chasers absolutely dominated the match, and they were clearly taking every opportunity to show off. The Supernovas never really even held the quaffle. Their keeper had several fantastic saves, but it wasn’t enough to withstand the constant barrage of shots. Worse still, Portree’s seeker, Summers, was playing entirely defensively, ensuring the Supernovas never had a chance to end the onslaught early. 

Harry was having the time of his life. He’d recently started supporting Portree, and he kept telling Ginny about the players and the various signature plays they made. Ginny decided not to point out that she already knew all of this. Harry was enjoying showing off his Portree knowledge, and she figured he was allowed to be a bit patronising for one night. If explaining, for the tenth time, why quidditch was so small in America made Harry happy, Ginny was willing to put up with it. Ginny even held her tongue when he was flat-out wrong (which was, embarrassingly, a lot). She owed him a nice night. Ginny had spent his actual birthday a mix of angry and crying, so she was determined to avoid an argument, even a silly quidditch one, at all costs. Even if listening to him explain quidditch like he somehow knew more than her made her want to bloody hex him. Ginny was on her best behaviour tonight. Harry deserved that much. 

Eventually, with the score an astounding 1060-30, Portree called a timeout. When play resumed, Summers switched tactics, aggressively searching all over the pitch for the snitch. Finally. Hopefully, he’d find the snitch quickly so they could go home. Even Harry had grown bored of the match and was now eating Ghastly Gummies with Ron, cracking each other up with the undead faces and voices the sweets gave them.

Ron was mid-way through a joke about eating Hermione’s brains when the Supernovas’ seeker shot off into a steep dive, far from Portree’s seeker. 

“Look!” Ginny said, jamming her elbow into Harry’s ribs as she stood up to get a better look. 

The rest of the audience jumped up too, and a moment later, the Supernovas’ seeker pulled out of the dive, snitch held high in her hand. On the other end of the pitch, Ginny saw Summers looking absolutely furious, arguing animatedly with the Portree beaters.

“You won, you prat,” Ginny shouted in his direction, laughing. “Look at him, Harry. What a tosser. They won, and he’s screaming at his teammates.” The entire Supernovas team, coaches and managers and other staff included, had rushed the pitch and tackled their seeker in a giant group hug. Summers’ argument with the beaters, meanwhile, had roped the whole team into shouting.

“Well, yeah, they shouldn’t have let her get the snitch,” Harry said.

Ginny snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re a sore winner, Harry.”

Harry stammered out some poor excuse for Portree, but Ginny just kissed him before he could dig himself a deeper hole. 

“Oh, gross,” Ginny laughed as she pulled away from him. “You _taste_ like a corpse too.”

“How would you know what a corpse tastes like?” Ron asked. “Have you been tasting corpses? Oh, wait, is that why you’ve been sneaking around with Greengrass? Tasting corpses together?” 

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded. But he and Harry were both howling with laughter.

“What? I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Ron sniggered. “I’m very supportive of whatever or whoever Ginny wants to taste.” 

“Go fuck yourself,” Ginny said. Tasting fucking corpses. What the actual fuck. 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Relax, Ginny, it’s just a joke.” 

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“It was a little funny,” Harry said, only halfway holding back laughter.

Ginny nearly told Harry to go fuck himself too, but Hermione was faster. 

“We should head home,” Hermione said firmly. “C’mon, Ginny.” She stood up and reached for Ginny’s hand. Ginny hesitated—she really wanted to tell Harry to go fuck himself too—but she took Hermione’s hand, and then they were gone.

When they landed, Hermione unlocked the door to the boys’ flat and pulled Ginny in with her.

“Sorry,” Hermione said. “You looked like you were about to go off at him.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Thanks.” Current Ginny—temper boiling—wasn’t entirely convinced she actually wanted Hermione deescalating for her, even if past Ginny—calm, rational—had asked her to.

Hermione hugged her. “They’ll come ‘round, Ginny.”

Ginny tried to let go of her temper. She was angry with herself, she reminded herself. She’d taught them to be prats about Astoria in the first place. Harry hadn’t even said anything. All he’d done was laugh at Ron’s stupid joke. She’d already spent Saturday taking out her anger with herself on Harry; he didn’t need more of it. Deep breaths. Listen to Hermione.

“It took me time to get used to it, too,” Hermione reminded Ginny. “They just need time to reconcile the new information with who they thought she was.” She was right. Ginny had to give them a chance to adjust. Grudgingly, Ginny summoned up some patience. 

A loud crack told them that Harry and Ron had come home now. A moment later, the door swung open. Ron and Harry (no longer corpses, thankfully) looked at Ginny uncertainly.

“Look, Ginny,” Ron said awkwardly. “Sorry about the joke.”

Ginny shrugged. An apology was big coming from Ron, but a shrug was the best she could muster.

“Is Neville home yet?” Harry asked, sounding even more awkward than Ron. “Neville!”

“I’ll go check his room,” Ron said, and then he walked off.

“Do you think he’s still working?” Hermione asked Harry.

Harry tensed and looked at Ginny. Merlin, he was so completely hiding something from her, and it was taking all of Ginny’s self-control to just let him. “I don’t know,” Harry said. “I was just—thought I’d ask him how it went.” His attempts to sound relaxed were utterly failing.

“He’s not there,” Ron said as he walked back into the entry. He, Harry, and Hermione all exchanged glances.

“Do you all know then?” Ginny asked sharply. Shit, temper. She took another deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said. The three of them looked between each other and Ginny.

“You think I’m going to be angry.” 

“No, Ginny, it’s just—”

“It’s fine.” Stay calm, Ginny. Stay calm. Snapping would just prove them right. “I told you earlier, Harry. If you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I trust you.” Ginny tried to mean it. 

“Well, I’m off to bed,” Ron said, sounding wholly unconcerned by his flatmate’s continued absence. “Bloody knackered.”

“I’ll come say good night,” Hermione said, cheeks slightly pink, as he headed off again. “Good night, Harry. Good night, Ginny.”

“Don’t forget a silencing charm,” Ginny teased her. Hermione’s cheeks went even redder, and she followed after Ron. Hermione was obviously staying over, which worked just fine for Ginny, who had told her parents she was staying with Hermione tonight. Technically not a lie.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Harry asked Ginny. He knew she was staying over. It felt like an apology—or at least an admission that Ginny was probably upset with him for laughing at Ron’s “joke.” Eh, good enough.

Ginny stepped forward and kissed him. “Wasn’t planning on going home, actually.” 

“No?” Harry grinned hopefully. “And here I was hoping maybe I could come over to ‘say good night,’” he teased.

“I’d really rather not have sex with the door open, Harry.”

Harry laughed. “Well, you’re boring.” Her parents, mortified to realise Harry and Ginny were probably having sex, had instituted an “open door” policy: they couldn’t be alone in Ginny’s room with the door closed. Which just meant Ginny spent the night “with Hermione” a lot. Not to mention Harry’s bed was bigger and more comfortable anyway. Ginny was sure her parents knew she was with Harry, but they liked the comfort of the lie. Ginny liked the comfort of not talking to her parents about sex. 

“I’m not the one who just quoted Hermione in an attempt to sound sexy,” Ginny said. She put her arms around his neck. “So are we just going to awkwardly banter here all night, or—?”

Harry cut her off with a deep kiss. Good answer. 

Ginny couldn’t sleep. The rush of endorphins and cuddling Harry had both done nothing to make Ginny feel any better. Harry had fallen asleep quickly, but the quiet gave Ginny’s brain too much freedom to run in screaming, panicked circles about everything and nothing in particular. 

Harry was lying to her about something. It was absurdly late, and Neville still wasn’t back. Even Hermione seemed to know what was going on, and she hadn’t told Ginny. The three of them didn’t trust Ginny, and Ginny couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. She wanted so much to be an adult, but maybe she really was just a bratty child, unable to control neither her temper nor her tears. 

Ginny had always been quick-tempered, but her constant anger seemed to have reached new heights since finishing school. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself to be calm and relaxed, there always seemed to be something bubbling just below the surface, one small annoyance away from exploding. She barely held it together at work with awful customers, and it left her with zero patience for anyone else, especially Harry.

The list of reasons they’d gotten into fights since getting back together in June was already incredibly long, and Ginny knew she was being impossible. Most of the time, she was upset with herself and just took it out on Harry anyway. She felt like an endless series of bad decisions, and she was angry with Harry for letting her, for not miraculously making up for all her failings while still letting her retain all of her independence. She fought with Harry because he was tough enough to handle it. He fought back, and then they both got over it. Plus, at least with Harry, they could smooth over fights with sex, unlike anyone else she fought with.

Harry had clearly gotten over whatever his issue was tonight. Ginny hadn’t. Whatever he was hiding, Ginny was somehow sure it was her fault, even if it made no sense. It had to be an attack for Neville to have stayed so late, but Harry walking away from something that serious just to watch quidditch didn’t add up. If there had been an attack, Harry would have jumped at the chance to chase down a Dark wizard or two. But why else would Harry, Ron, and Hermione all agree not to tell her unless one of her friends had been attacked? 

The sound of a door opening pulled Ginny from her thoughts. Footsteps. It had to be Neville. Ginny slipped out of bed, threw her clothes back on, and crept out into the hallway. 

“Ginny?” Neville whispered when he saw her. 

Ginny waved him out of the hallway and back toward the entry. “What’s going on?” Ginny whispered. “Is everything okay?” If anyone would tell her, it was Neville.

“Er, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“It’s like two in the morning, Neville.” Ginny didn’t actually know what time it was, but it felt like a good guess.

“Yeah, sorry, nothing bad. I just stayed for dinner, and then I had to go back into the office to file paperwork.”

“Dinner? I thought you were at work.”

Neville frowned. “Oh. Harry didn’t tell you.” His dark tone did absolutely nothing to soothe Ginny’s mind. At least Neville seemed to think she should know. “Guess I’m not surprised.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” she asked, harsher than Neville deserved.

Neville rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Do try to listen before you blow up the flat, Ginny, but Astoria has lost her bloody mind, and I’ve—”

“Astoria?” A sickening wave of panic hit Ginny. Astoria definitely had people who hated her enough to attack her. “What happened? Is she okay? Where is—?”

“She’s fine.”

“Why—?”

“I’ve just told you. She’s absolutely mad. Got bored and decided, fuck it, who needs the Statute of Secrecy? Not Astoria.”

“What?” That was definitely not the sort of emergency Ginny was expecting.

“She just about got herself a cell in Azkaban with the shit she pulled today, but don’t worry, Ginny, it’s Astoria.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “She doesn’t break rules. She just casually bends the highest law of the entire wizarding world to her will like it’s just a typical Tuesday.” Neville rolled his eyes and let out a groan that was simultaneously exhausted, defeated, and impressed. 

Ginny’s mouth attempted to ask several questions at once, and instead supplied Neville with a confusing blur of sounds. The Statute of Secrecy? _I can fix this_ , Astoria had told Ginny. Oh fuck. 

“That about sums it up, Ginny.” He shook his head. “I’m sure Astoria at least spared me an exposé on the irreparable harms that the Statute of Secrecy’s strict enforcement on secrecy have on mixed muggle-wizard families, but I’ve now filed paperwork for Rhianna’s entire extended family to be granted Right of Knowledge. One pile of forms per person. Do you have any idea how big Rhianna’s family is, Ginny?”

“Er, not really? I’ve only met her cousin Phil.”

“Oh, you’ve met Philip?”

“You’ve met Phil?”

“Would you like to know how Astoria got the Ministry to send an Auror to Rhianna’s house?”

“Oh no.” A mix of dread and guilt twisted in Ginny’s stomach. This had to be Astoria’s solution to Phil discovering magic. 

“She faked a bloody muggle attack.”

“Astoria did what?”

“Well, she didn’t fake any actual violence, but she followed a pattern we see with a lot of muggle attacks, which is why some benign magic got flagged and sent to us to investigate. There are ways around the wards tracking magic around muggles, and she maneuvered them perfectly. She won’t admit it, and you can’t go repeating this to anyone, especially those two arseholes,” Neville jerked his head toward the bedrooms, “but I’m convinced she knew exactly what she was doing. I know she knows how they do it because she’s seen it herself.”

“But she didn’t attack anyone. Astoria wouldn’t—”

“No, and she’s scot-free on breaching the Statute of Secrecy too. She was well within the law. She was in a private wizarding residence, and she had nothing to do with the muggle’s presence there, so there’s no clear intent to expose. Legally, it was simply an accident that a muggle was present. Anyway, I think she was just trying to get Philip Right of Knowledge, but her parents’ howler gave her excuse to demand it for Rhianna’s whole family.”

“What?” Ginny practically jumped Neville. “Her parents sent her a howler?” Nevermind the absurdity of whatever Astoria had done for Rhianna’s family. Over a year of silence, and the first thing those fuckers say to her is via a howler? Ginny could murder them. 

“The initial report—that Astoria conjured flowers in front of a muggle at Rhianna’s house—reached them somehow. I don’t know how. Astoria thinks someone in the department must have tipped them off. In any case, they’ve taken the flowers to somehow mean he’s ‘defiling’ her—” Neville rolled his eyes, “—and sent a nasty howler screaming at the both of them, threatening to kill him, and threatening to bring her home.”

“Bloody hell,” Ginny said. “Right. I’m going over there.” 

“What? Now?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s probably asleep, Ginny.” 

“Then I’ll be there when she wakes up.” Like hell Ginny was going to let those arseholes get under Astoria’s skin.

“Rhianna, Eleri, and their mum are all there. She’s fine. Get some sleep.”

“I already wasn’t sleeping.”

“Harry?” Neville looked at her, sad and concerned. 

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Ginny sighed. “I knew it was weird that he wouldn’t tell me where you were, and now—” Ginny swore as she suddenly put the pieces together. “Neville,” she said carefully, “why didn’t Harry tell me?”

“I don’t know.” It sounded like a lie. “He probably didn’t want to worry you.”

“Why would I worry? I know Astoria, and I know you know her too. She did some harmless magic at home. It happens. I would have known right away she was innocent, so no reason to worry.”

The tight look on Neville’s face was answer enough for Ginny.

“Great. So either he thinks I have horrible judgement, or he thinks I’d actually be friends with someone who attacks muggles.”

“Ginny—”

“Yeah, I’m definitely leaving.”

“You’re not doing Astoria any favours, Ginny.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s got plenty of enemies without you giving Harry more reasons to hate her.” 

“If he hates her because I’m worried about my friend who’s just been threatened by her fuckwit parents, maybe the problem is him, not me.”

“That’s not—” Neville groaned. “Fine. Whatever. I’m going to sleep.”


	15. Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out that Astoria’s parents sent her a howler, the first contact with their daughter in over a year, Ginny rushes to Astoria’s house to check on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of death, reference to battle injuries, mention of child abuse, brief physical abuse

> Wednesday, 4 August 1999. The Owens’ house. Early hours.

“Ginny!” Phil said cheerfully when he opened the door. He had an elephant snout in place of his nose. “Guess what? You’re a witch!” 

“Hi, Phil,” Ginny said. She stepped inside and led herself up the stairs without a second glance at him. 

Astoria’s door was closed, but the door opened when she turned the knob.

The lamp on Astoria’s bedside was still on, dimly lighting Astoria and Eleri, Rhianna’s older sister, asleep in Astoria’s bed. Eleri was on her back, one arm around Astoria, who was wrapped tightly around her. Astoria’s black hair shone in the light, falling softly across Eleri’s neck and shoulder. Ginny closed the door quietly behind her and stepped beside the bed.

Ginny hesitated, staring down at Astoria, unsure of what to do. Ron and Harry’s laughter were punctuating clipped memories of the last time Astoria’s parents said anything to her. Mrs. Greengrass’ wand between Astoria’s shoulder blades. Mr. Greengrass yanking Astoria by her hair, away from the mangled but breathing body of a kid whose name Ginny didn’t even know. _Tasting corpses together?_ “Come home now, or you’re never coming home,” they’d told her. Trying to fight off the onslaught of death, to heal the fallen, was the last, unforgivable choice Astoria had made in their eyes. 

Now, Astoria’s shoulders rose and fell slowly in time with her peaceful breathing. Ginny reached out and gently brushed Astoria’s hair off her face. Before she could stop herself, Ginny laughed. She had been hoping to see Astoria’s calm features, for some kind of reassurance that Astoria was okay, at least right now. And Astoria’s face was indeed relaxed, but what made Ginny laugh was the beard. Eleri.

Eleri had put her talents at transfiguration and illusions to use working for a theatre company, transforming the actors into the physical forms of their characters. She had, apparently, given Astoria a short beard, probably an attempt to distract or amuse her. Astoria always loved Eleri’s illusions. Ginny imagined Eleri turning Astoria into character after character, Astoria playing along with a series of dramatic voices. She imagined Astoria, exhausted, falling asleep like this, still in character, still distracted and shielded from whatever awful things her parents said.

The door creaked open, and soft footsteps crossed the room. Ginny looked up to see Rhianna, smiling gently. 

“I’ll tell her you came by,” Rhianna said quietly. “She’s okay, Ginny.”

“Neville told me about the howler,” Ginny said. 

Rhianna frowned. “I’m a bit peeved about that.”

“A bit peeved?” Ginny’s voice shot up. That seemed like a massive underreaction. 

“Well, yeah, seeing as now I can’t be properly angry with her for trying to do my family a favour. My mum and Eleri think it’s brilliant. Did Neville tell you what she did?”

“Sort of?”

“Well, as you know, Phil figured it out, so we had him and his dad come over to figure out what to do. Turns out he’s hypersensitive to magic, so it’s a losing battle to keep trying to wipe evidence of magic from his memory. And, of course, it’s a breach of the Statute of Secrecy for him to know. Even if we didn’t actually tell him, we’d be held responsible as his closest magical contacts. Best we could come up with was to just wipe all of us from his memory entirely and cut off contact with that whole part of the family.”

“That’s—” Ginny thought of Hermione’s parents and frowned. The Healers had managed to restore most of their memories, but they weren’t the same. “That sucks, Rhianna.”

“Yeah, well, I stupidly said I thought it was shit. I shouldn’t have to lose my family when the point of the Statute of Secrecy is to protect us from witch hunts, not cousins who just think magic is cool. And that’s when Astoria hatched her stupid, reckless plan that nearly got her thrown in Azkaban—thank Merlin Neville’s an Auror and managed to talk Kingsley into barring the others from even looking at the case—and now—”

“Wait, what? Barring who?”

Rhianna’s face paled. “Er, I—I don’t know.” She truly was the worst liar, and the fact that she felt the need to lie told Ginny all she needed to know: Harry and Ron. “Neville just said some of the other Aurors were, er, you know—”

“Were what?” 

“They wanted to arrest her without any questioning.” Rhianna looked torn between the same fury Ginny felt burning in her gut (Harry and Ron wanted to fucking _what_?) and mortified that her mouth had apparently said it. Probably something she wasn’t supposed to tell Ginny, but Rhianna was too impulsively honest to stop herself.

“And what? Stick her in Azkaban for conjuring flowers?” 

“Like I said, I’m more than a little angry with Astoria for taking such a stupid risk—” (Well, that sure sounded like a yes.) “—but I can’t even be properly angry with her because her bloody parents are now threatening her and my family.”

“Just Phil, actually,” Eleri mumbled. Ginny whipped her head around. Eleri’s eyes were still closed, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “Mrs. Greengrass invited me over for tea next week. Can’t wait to tell her in detail all about how I defiled her daughter.”

“Merlin,” Rhianna sighed, rolling her eyes. 

Eleri blinked her eyes open and looked at Ginny. “Ginny, did you know that when a snooty pureblood brat gives you flowers, it means she wants you to defile her?” Eleri grinned sleepily. “I had no idea that’s what Astoria meant by the flowers, but then her parents so kindly sent that cheerful letter to let me know. Well, obviously, I acted at once.” 

“She’s joking,” Rhianna told Ginny, clearly not particularly amused by the joke. 

“Oh, don’t mind my sister, Ginny. She’s just upset that Astoria has free will.” Eleri carefully pulled herself up so she was sitting, Astoria’s head now resting on her thigh.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if she’d gotten herself thrown in Azkaban,” Rhianna said. 

“You’re just upset because she had finally agreed to quitting her job when the plan was to wipe us from Phil’s life entirely. Your lifelong dreams of getting her to quit were crushed once again.” Eleri looked at Ginny. “Can you believe the nerve of Astoria? Working? Wanting to earn money? Truly reprehensible.”

“Oh, bugger off, Eleri. You know just as well as I do that she’s working herself to death.”

Eleri shrugged. “She likes being busy.” Without looking, Eleri fumbled around for something on the nightstand. “Anyway, Ginny,” she said as she searched, “did you see my flowers? The ‘please defile me’ flowers?” She jerked her head toward Astoria’s desk, where a small vase filled with flowers sat. “Ooh, found it. Look, Ginny. Take it.” Eleri held out her hand.

“Er, thanks?” Ginny said as she took what appeared to be some sort of dull knife out of Eleri’s hand. It had a pink, plastic handle, and the flat, metal body was rough like sandpaper. “What is this?”

Eleri’s smile faltered. “You don’t—what? Have you never seen a nail file before?”

Rhianna burst out laughing. “That’s made my day,” she snorted. “Thanks, Ginny.”

“Sorry, no?” Ginny said awkwardly. 

Eleri groaned. “Dear god,” she said, “she’s been standing here this whole time thinking I’ve actually meant I had sex with my little sister, hasn’t she? Fucking hell.” 

Rhianna was now laughing so hard she had to grab onto Ginny to keep from falling over. 

“I knew you didn’t defile her or whatever,” Ginny said, feeling very stupid. 

“No, I did,” Eleri protested. “Look, it’s a nail _file_. I took it out of Astoria’s pocket. I _de-filed_ her. Unfiled. Removed the file. File-less. And now you’ve gone and de-filed me too.” 

“There’s no way Astoria had a nail file in her pocket,” Rhianna said, pulling herself back up. “Apparently, magic eliminates the need for such a silly muggle contraption.”

“What’s it do?” Ginny asked, looking at the nail file. 

“You just rub it against the edge of your nails to file them down,” Eleri said. “Shapes and smooths.” She looked back at Rhianna. “Astoria thought it was hilarious, so she clearly knows what a nail file is.”

“I highly doubt she just happened to have one in her back pocket,” Rhianna said. “You conjured it just for an excuse.”

“An excuse to what? Touch her bum? I don’t need an excuse to touch Astoria’s bum.”

Rhianna rolled her eyes. 

“I’d demonstrate now, but she’s dead to the world, so that’s not really fair.”

“She took her potion then?”

“I told her I’d take away the beard if she didn’t.”

“What happened to Astoria having free will?” Rhianna rolled her eyes. 

“It’s my beard. I’m not stopping her transfiguring herself.” 

Rhianna frowned and said something in Welsh. Ginny hadn’t the faintest clue what any of it meant, but Rhianna sounded serious. 

“Well, yeah.” Eleri said something else in Welsh, and she then switched back to English to say, “but I was talking about her face.” Eleri glanced at Ginny. “Anyway, yes, she’s blissfully free of any dreams for a few more hours.” Rhianna and Eleri switched between Welsh and English a lot when they were talking just to each other, but Ginny suspected this switch had been a conscious choice. She tried not to take it personally.

“Are you staying then?” Rhianna asked Eleri. 

Eleri shrugged. “I figured you were busy making up with the wanker.”

“He’s not a wanker.”

“I’m not forgiving him just because a bigger bully showed up and scared him. He still hit my sister.”

“He’s family, Eleri.”

Eleri rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Yes, you can go back to giggling about girls with the wanker. Ginny and I can handle sleeping beauty.”

“Ginny’s not actually staying.” Rhianna looked at her. “Are you?”

Ginny shrugged. “Kind of figured I would, actually,” she said. “If that’s okay.” Ginny wasn’t really sure what to do, but staying and being around whenever Astoria woke up seemed like a decent start. Plus, going back to Harry or the Burrow right now were both uninviting prospects.

“See, Rhi?” Eleri said. “Astoria’s fine. Nevermind that we could be screaming right now, and she still wouldn’t wake. She’s blissfully unaware of anything and everything for the next few hours. Want Ginny and I to join your ‘welcome to the wizarding world’ party downstairs?”

Rhianna rolled her eyes. “No. Well, Ginny can, but I don’t think she likes Phil much either.”

“Surprised you like him, if I’m honest,” Ginny said.

Rhianna shrugged. “If I don’t give him a second chance, no one will.” 

“Hypocrite,” Eleri said.

Rhianna glared at her sister, rolled her eyes, and then sighed. “Whatever. Phil is terrified Astoria’s parents are going to bust down our door and murder him in his sleep, so I’m sleeping in the living room with him tonight. Wake me up if she needs anything. And don’t leave her alone. She wakes up sometimes even with the potion.”

Eleri said something in Welsh again. It sounded sarcastic.

“It’s been over a year, Eleri.” Rhianna glanced at Astoria, looking all together unassured by her peaceful breathing. 

“Nos da, Rhianna,” Eleri said. 

“Nos da,” Rhianna agreed. “Good night, Ginny. Please don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “G’night.”

Rhianna left the room and closed the door behind her. Eleri sighed and hit her head gently against the headboard. 

“I’m guessing Neville didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night just to tell you Astoria’s parents are a couple of wankers?” Eleri said.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ginny said.

Eleri arched an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then you can sleep.”

Ginny sighed. “I’m just angry at everyone and everything all the time.”

“Sounds like you need a cwtch too.” That was a Welsh word Ginny actually knew: a cwtch, a hug. Eleri scooted herself and Astoria over and pat the space she’d made. “Don’t you go all awkward English on me now, Ginny.”

“But I am English.” Ginny sat down next to Eleri anyway. Eleri put her arms around Ginny and pulled her in tight. Rhianna always insisted that a cwtch was better than a hug. Ginny exhaled some of the tension that seemed to have lodged itself deep in her bones and decided maybe Rhianna was right.

Eleri didn’t make her talk about it, which was a relief to Ginny. She was tired of talking. She just wanted someone bigger, stronger, smarter than her to fix everything. And for a moment, she could just pretend that Eleri was someone big and strong and smart in all the ways Ginny needed right now. 

After a while, Astoria mumbled quietly in her sleep and wrapped herself tighter around Eleri’s legs. 

Eleri laughed and patted Astoria’s head like a cat. “Okay, okay, you’re right,” she told Astoria. “We should get some bloody sleep.” Eleri looked at Ginny. “Astoria wants to help you sleep.”

“Oh, is that what she said?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, it was Welsh.”

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“She’s been learning in her free time.”

Ginny actually laughed at that. Astoria? Free time? Yeah right. 

“Really though, Ginny. Will you stay with her? Rhianna thinks she’s three and will hex my eyebrows off if I leave Astoria unattended, but I need to send a couple owls and check on those two downstairs. I’ll be back up in a bit, but hopefully you’ll be asleep by then.”

“Yeah, I can stay.”

“Okay, Astoria, I’ve got you an upgrade,” Eleri said gently, with a hint of laughter in her voice, “but you’re going to have to let go of me first.” She carefully pulled Astoria off her legs, despite Astoria’s sleepy protests, and got up. “Get some sleep, Ginny.”

Ginny nodded and laid down next to Astoria, who wasted no time at all before wrapping herself around Ginny. Even though Ginny knew Astoria couldn’t possibly know it was her, it felt reassuring. 

“Nos da,” Eleri whispered. She touched the top of Ginny’s head gently and smiled. Then she left the room, leaving Ginny alone with her thoughts and Astoria.

But whatever thoughts Ginny had, they were quickly whisked away as her exhaustion finally hit her, dragging her into a deep sleep.


	16. She crawls under your skin; you're never quite the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny tags along with Harry as they shop for Harry’s new dress robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of past character death, mild blood supremacy, mention of student abuse (Snape), classism, tabloids, hate mail

> Saturday, 8 August 1999. The Burrow. Late morning.

Ginny unfolded Astoria’s letter and read it for what felt like the millionth time this week. She’d just about memorised it, but she still liked reading it anyway, watching Astoria’s elegant cursive slowly become just a little more messy and rushed as Astoria went, only to straighten back up in time for the last paragraph. 

_My dearest Ginny,_

_Thank you for coming over and staying, even if I was very boringly asleep the whole time. You are too sweet. I wish I could have stayed, but duty calls. Boo. Cuddling with you is much nicer than running around a hospital and getting quizzed by Shah._

_Rhianna says my sleeping potions make me super clingy, so apologies if I was a bit… smothering. Let’s just call it “affectionate.” Sounds much nicer, right? You’re always welcome to come over if you want to be smothered in your sleep, no excuse needed._

_I guess Neville told you about my parents. It’s nice to finally have something my parents and I agree on: dating Phil was the worst idea ever. What a relief to find out my parents care enough about me to stalk me via the Ministry and intervene when I make bad dating choices. They just love my ovaries so much._

_Anyway, I’m fine. Greengrasses don’t like getting their hands dirty. They just want to scare me, but touching me or Phil or anyone else would be illegal, so they won’t. I’m fine. They can eat my shit (which is made entirely of sunshine and rainbows because I am perfect)._

_Speaking of me shitting rainbows, if you still want me to come to the lion’s den, I checked my schedules. Would Thursday the 19th work? I should be done at St. Mungo’s by three that day, and then I’m free the rest of the day and don’t need to be up early Friday either. We could do something else too if you don’t want me over. I’m just saying I’m all yours if you want me, whatever you want. Just let me know._

_Again, thank you. You’re sweet. It was nice to wake up to you before, well, everything else. I hope your day is as peaceful as that brief moment of calm was._

_Love,_

_Astoria xx_

Astoria had left very early Wednesday morning, just like the last time Ginny stayed over. Ginny vaguely remembered Astoria at some point mumbling her name contentedly and curling in closer to Ginny, but it could have been a dream for how dead asleep Ginny had been. When Ginny did finally wake up, it was to Astoria’s letter, a glass of fresh orange juice, and some homemade Welsh cakes all waiting for her on the nightstand. Astoria’s attempt at giving Ginny that brief moment of calm too. 

Today, Ginny had resolved to finally ask her mother about having Astoria over for dinner. They were on speaking terms again, but strained. Ginny could tell her mum was being overly careful not to upset her, and it just irritated Ginny. But she was trying not to fight, so they spoke like strangers, polite and detached.

Ginny found her mother out in the garden, tending to the Snapping Daisies that had started snapping just a bit too aggressively. One of them had nearly taken a chunk out of Ginny’s calf as she walked by the other day. Mum was muttering to them now, tsk-tsking at them for trying to bite the hand—or leg, in this case—that feeds them. 

“Mum,” Ginny said, announcing her presence as she hovered nervously behind her mother. 

“Oh, hello, Ginny, dear,” Mum said, turning to look up at her. “I was just—ow! Would you stop it?” She swatted at a daisy that had just taken a nip at her. “Really now!” She huffed, stood up, and stepped out of the plant’s reach. “Sorry, dear. I don’t know what’s gotten into these daisies!” She shot them a furious look, hands on her hips. 

“Mum,” Ginny said again. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Can Astoria come over for dinner?”

“Tonight?” Mum made a face. 

“A week from Thursday. The nineteenth. She said she doesn’t have work that night.”

“I’ll check the calendar.”

“I checked. There’s nothing on it.”

“Oh, well, yes, that’s fine then. Of course.” Mum smiled and let her hands fall from her hips. “It’ll be nice to finally meet her.”

“She’s a vegetarian, just so you know.”

“Is she now?”

“So no meat.”

“Your Uncle Fabian was a vegetarian too, you know.”

Ginny didn’t know what to do with that information. Uncle Fabian had died in the first wizarding war, so Ginny never knew him. Ginny guessed it was another one of her mother’s attempts to show just how totally okay with Astoria she was. Whatever. Ginny resisted rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, I’m sure I can find something to make,” Mum said. 

“And can she stay over?” Ginny blurted out. She hadn’t actually planned on inviting Astoria to spend the night, but if she didn’t have to leave for work early in the morning, why not? 

“Oh, yes, that’s fine. I’m sure we can clean up one of your brothers’ old rooms a bit.”

“She can stay with me,” Ginny said firmly. “In my room. Like Hermione does.” Okay, so Ginny was definitely baiting her mum. She knew she shouldn’t, but Mum had never suggested Hermione sleep in a different room. 

“Whatever is most comfortable, dear. I just thought—well, we have empty rooms, that’s all.” She pat her hands nervously on her apron, brushing dirt off her fingers. 

Ginny sighed, letting the fight leave her. Mum was trying. Ginny wasn’t helping anyone, much less Astoria, by baiting her. “Yeah, okay. I’ll ask her what she’d rather. She probably won’t want to be trouble though.” Then, straining, Ginny added: “Thanks, Mum.”

“Does she like pie? I think my mother had a recipe for a vegetarian shepherd’s pie she made for Fabian.”

“Er, probably? I don’t know. I don’t think she’s fussy. I’m sure anything will be just fine. It’s just dinner.”

Mum shook her head as if “just fine” was not good enough, but she didn’t say anything else.

“Do you want help with the daisies?” Ginny asked. Ginny had been useless around the house all week as she avoided her mum. Her dad had picked up some of the slack, and George and Percy had both been by to help out more, but Ginny figured it was probably time to suck it up and help her mum again.

“Why don’t we check that book Neville gave us? Maybe there’s something about Snapping Daisies in there.”

Harry came by for lunch, and then he and Ginny left for Diagon Alley. Harry had some sort of party to go to in Brussels next week and wanted new dress robes for the occasion. He was supposed to be representing the Ministry, and Kingsley had emphasised that he needed to look and act his best. The Ministry’s relationship with some of their less Muggle-hating allies in Europe had been badly strained by Voldemort’s rise to power, so they were sending Harry as a show of Britain’s “true” values or something like that. Harry hated it, but he agreed to go because Kingsley had asked. He wasn’t really in a position to say no to Kingsley right now. 

They found a swanky shop Ginny had never been to—and for good reason. There weren’t price tags on anything, and when she, amused and curious, asked about a pair of gold, glittery heels that included a hover charm to keep the wearer floating just above the floor, Ginny literally choked—over two hundred galleons just for a pair of shoes. Ginny made only a few galleons after an entire shift working at George’s shop. Ginny couldn’t even dream of shopping here. 

But Harry could. He made good money as an Auror, and his vault full of gold was multiplying, because that is apparently what gold does when you have enough of it. And if he was going to be representing the country at an international function with some of the most important people from those countries, it was worth it to have high quality robes. Also Kingsley had all but told Harry he had to get nicer robes.

“Ah, yes, of course, Mr. Potter,” a man who had introduced himself as Polonius said when Harry explained what he was looking for. He wore deep purple robes, glittering with jewels, and Ginny was sure she didn’t want to know how much those cost. “Something classy and smart. Respectable, not too flashy. And of course, you will likely be among the youngest in attendance, so something that helps you look a bit more mature without being too obvious about it. Let us see what we can do.” 

Polonius led them through the shop and immediately started whipping his wand around with dramatic flourish as clothes flew off the displays faster than Ginny could keep track. But then she caught sight of a dress zipping into the floating pile.

“Oh, er, it’s just Harry,” Ginny said quickly. “I’m not getting anything.” The last thing she needed was another _Daily Prophet_ article trying to tally up just how many galleons dating Ginny “cost” Harry.

Polonius turned around and looked her up and down. “Nonsense, Miss Weasley,” he said. “I mean no offense, and I am sure you have some lovely robes, but this is a very special occasion, and you will be representing—”

“It’s just him going.” Ginny absolutely did not need some overpriced dress to collect dust in her wardrobe.

Polonius frowned. “Just Mr. Potter? Surely the Ministry—”

“For both of us,” Harry said firmly. 

Ginny turned on him, ready to argue, but he nudged an elbow into her ribs, and she decided to hold her tongue until Polonius was less likely to hear her protest.

“Go on now, let’s try some of these on,” Polonius said, waving them toward changing rooms. “Don’t worry about the fit. I can easily adjust that.” He flicked the clothes into two separate parades of outfits, each flying into separate changing rooms. “Show me them all, and we shall see what we like best. I will be just a moment. Now get to it.” He waved them again, turned, and walked away.

Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm before he stepped into the changing room and hissed, “You are not buying me anything.”

“Just play along, Ginny,” Harry whispered back. “It’ll be fun.” Ginny saw nothing fun about the astronomical prices of this shop. It was one thing for Harry, who had more money than he knew what to do with, but Ginny barely even felt comfortable standing in the shop, let alone trying on any of the clothes.

“Harry—”

“C’mon, Gin. I’ll feel less awkward about it if you do it too.”

“Fine, but—”

“Please.”

Ginny sighed. There was no use arguing. She’d just have to stop him if he actually tried buying something for her. 

Harry quickly settled on a set of dark navy robes that had a nearly imperceptible shimmer to them, as if infused with the slightest hint of gemstones. His waistcoat had tiny flecks of green, like emeralds, which only made Harry’s green eyes shine brighter. Polonius adjusted the robes to fit Harry, neatly framing his lean body. Ginny found herself thinking he looked like far more of a man than usual, and immediately chastised herself for being so easily hoodwinked by expensive robes. Expensive robes did not make someone a man, she reminded herself—but Harry did look attractive, and she was looking forward to taking those absurdly expensive robes _off_ him. She shook the thought from her mind.

Neither Polonius nor Harry seemed satisfied with any of the clothes that Ginny tried on. Not that they thought Ginny looked bad—they just thought she could look better. Ginny had little patience for it. She wasn’t getting anything. She’d told Harry not to buy her anything, and if he actually tried, she would be furious. If she wanted nice robes, she would save up and get them herself, not just have her rich boyfriend buy everything for her.

While Polonius was busy finding and altering more things for Ginny to try on though, Harry pleaded with her to cheer up a bit and just have fun. He felt silly and out of place in his expensive robes. He just wanted Ginny to try on things so they could pretend they were some high society, snobby, rich couple, which was who he had to pretend to be next week. It was a game, and he needed her participation to help him feel more at ease. So Ginny swallowed her pride and let Polonius put her in dress after dress, glittering shoe after glittering shoe, feeling like an imposter, ready for Polonius to angrily throw them out when he finally realised Ginny had no business here.

Eventually, Polonius gave Ginny a long green dress with small, golden birds that soared across the fabric in graceful arcs. She stepped out of the dressing room once again and spun around for Harry and Polonius, as she had for every other piece of clothing Polonius had given her. This time though, Polonius clapped his hands and dragged Harry, still in his chosen robes at Polonius’ insistence, to stand next to Ginny. 

“There’s surely something here,” Polonius said thoughtfully, “but it’s still not quite there yet, is it, Mr. Potter?” He turned Harry and Ginny to face the mirror. Objectively, Ginny supposed, they looked good, like some rich, fashionable couple with coordinated outfits, ready to go to a classy party. But she felt a certain incongruity about the whole ordeal, like she was wearing some other woman’s dress—some woman who actually belonged on the arm of this rich, famous man who attended international parties on behalf of the Ministry of Magic with other swanky, important people like him. Ginny was just some dirt poor kid who lived at home and worked part-time at some meaningless retail job. 

“I think it looks nice,” Ginny offered awkwardly, trying to remind herself she was just playing along for Harry, who probably felt just as awkward and out of place with all this as she did. 

Polonius spun Ginny around and looked her up and down, brow furrowed. “Hm, yes, I think I know what you need,” he said. “Wait here.” Then, with a swish of his cloak, he disappeared into the backroom.

“Harry,” Ginny said quietly, “I think we really need to be done. We’re wasting his time.” 

Harry frowned. 

“Please.” She looked at him seriously and put her hands on his shoulders. “You look good, Harry. Really. You’re handsome, and it suits you, and you’ll be just fine, okay? I’ll try whatever it is he’s getting now, but then we really should go.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Just this, and that’s it. I’ll tell him we need to go.” He gave Ginny a quick kiss. “You look beautiful though, Ginny. In everything. Smart dress or dirty quidditch robes or that ghastly thing George has you wear for work, you always look beautiful.”

Ginny’s cheeks flushed, but Polonius returned before she could respond.

“I had to make a few adjustments, but here, try these on,” Polonius said. He held out a glittering pair of heels that looked to be made entirely of pure gold and emeralds, a perfect colour match with the dress. 

Ginny took the shoes and sat down. Despite their jeweled appearance, they felt as soft as fur and as comfortable as a cozy pair of slippers. Ginny pulled the straps around her ankles and stood up. She looked in the mirror, and, with a jolt, she saw the straps of the shoes were now winding up her legs in smooth, graceful lines. 

Her heart gave a small leap, and Ginny stared, mesmerised by the movement and sucked in by a sudden flash of memory. Slughorn’s Christmas party last year. 

Not a week before, Slughorn had called Dennis “hopeless” after he mistakenly skipped a step and his cauldron exploded, leaving several students with burns. Astoria showed up to the party arm in arm with Dennis, with black snakes glittering threateningly around her ankles—Astoria’s “arse-kicking heels.” She’d spent the entire party telling stories of Dennis’ many talents, those black snakes daring anyone to disagree. Ginny had hardly been able to keep her eyes off Astoria and her politely murderous calves.

At the end of the night, Astoria told Slughorn that calling a muggleborn student “hopeless”—after he had been subjected to all kinds of abuse by his former potions master, missed an entire year of school while on the run from Snatchers, and lost his brother in the war—over a single potion mishap was not simply cruel. In fact, she argued, it spoke to a glaring failure in Slughorn’s supposed ability to find and nurture talent. Knife artfully slid and twisted into Slughorn’s gaping “I nurtured Tom Riddle” wound. Then she left. 

The next day, Slughorn pulled Dennis aside at dinner to ask him to join the Slug Club. (Dennis stubbornly declined, but Ginny managed to talk him down from his protest and get him to take the opportunity. Threatening to send an owl to his parents certainly helped.)

“I think she likes them,” Polonius said, pulling Ginny back to the present. “One of my favourite designs, of course. I don’t take those out for just anyone, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny knelt down to get a closer look at the snakes curled around her ankles, only to find they weren’t snakes at all. “They’re birds,” Ginny said, too entranced to even notice the awe in her voice. “Astoria’s are snakes. She calls them her ‘arse-kicking heels.’”

Polonius laughed. “Miss Greengrass wears them then?”

“When she needs to kick some arse, yeah.” Ginny grinned. Then, something occurred to her. “Wait, you know Astoria?” she asked Polonius, looking up at his reflection in the mirror.

“Of course. I’ve been dressing that girl since before she could even hold her head high and walk. I haven’t seen her in awhile. I do hope she might come by again soon though. She’s always been a fun one.”

“I bet.” 

Ginny imagined Astoria dragging Ginny into this shop, those black snakes gleaming, daring anyone to doubt whether Ginny belonged here with rich-and-famous Harry, just like she’d defended Dennis. _Of course you’re good enough for Potter_ , Astoria would scoff. _He’s the one who should be asking if he’s good enough for you._

Her imaginary Astoria would laugh at Ginny’s nervousness now. _Daaaaaarling_ , Astoria would say in an over-the-top drawl, _of course Polonius knows me. He’s an old friend. Now stop sulking and get up._ She’d clutch Ginny’s arm and pull her to her feet, long, manicured nails digging in gently. (Astoria’s nails were usually kept short and plain, but Ginny’s imagination had created the poshest version of Astoria it could.)

Ginny stood up again, letting Astoria lead her, and looked in the mirror. The imaginary Astoria stepped around her, looking Ginny up and down from every angle, and stopped behind her, eyes meeting Ginny’s in the mirror. Astoria grinned, put her hands on Ginny’s waist, and stepped closer. _Look at you, Gin_ she said into Ginny’s ear. _You look fucking incredible._ Astoria kissed her cheek and wrapped her arms around Ginny, close and warm. The real Ginny blushed.

“We’ll take it all,” Harry told Polonius, yanking Ginny from her daydream. 

“What?” Ginny nearly shrieked, turning on him as her emotions did an abrupt one eighty turn. “Harry, I told you—”

“Early birthday gift, Gin.” He grinned stupidly, as if he’d just come up with the world’s cleverest solution to Ginny’s sudden anger. _Ha, stumped you, Ginny!_ his stupid face said. _Can’t stop me now!_

“No, Harry,” Ginny said, voice hard and serious. “You said—”

“But look how happy you are, Ginny.”

“What about my face says happy to you, Harry?” Ginny snapped, backing Harry into the wall. “We talked about this already. You _promised._ ” 

“Okay, okay, okay.” Harry put his hands up, admitting defeat.

“Good.” Ginny went back into the changing room and took several careful breaths. Poor Polonius. Ginny should have never agreed to doing this. Harry was an adult. He could have tried on robes on his own. He’d just made up an excuse to try to trick Ginny. Fucking Harry and his stupid fucking money.

Deep breaths. Harry said okay. He’d listened to her. Not that she should have needed to remind him so many times that she hated him spending tons of money on her—they’d talked about it more than enough by now. He always told her to just ignore _The Daily Prophet,_ but he wasn’t the one who got a pile of hate mail every time they ran some nasty article about “golddigger” Ginny Weasley. But he’d relented for the moment. They could talk about it later. Right now, she just needed to put on a polite, happy face and hope Polonius wasn’t too offended or angry with them.

Ginny pulled her own clothes back on and looked into the changing room mirror. Astoria was back, standing behind Ginny, face sad now. She looked like she wanted to say something, but Ginny shook her head. Then Astoria was gone, and Ginny was alone.


	17. There's a shouting match sharp as a thumbnail scratch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: verbal abuse/yelling, brief references to the war/the Carrows/torture, sexist language (“bitch”), classism, tabloids, hate mail
> 
> The verbal abuse/yelling is a large chunk of the chapter here, as a heads up.

After the swanky shop, they went to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ginny suspected it was once again an attempt by Harry to find her something to buy, so as much as she wanted to look, for the millionth time, at everything in the store, she didn’t. Instead, she just followed Harry, listening to him speculate about the upcoming transfer window, Ginny’s least favourite subject. 

“I bet Wasps are after that seeker from, where was it?” Harry said. “That Asian school.” He picked up a miniature broom and let it soar around in front of them. 

“You mean Takakura?” Ginny said. “She’s from Mahoutokoro, that posh Japanese school.”

“Yeah, her. The Wasps’ seeker is retiring, so they’d be after her I bet.”

“They can’t afford her.”

Ginny could usually talk for days about the transfers (Wasps were almost certainly looking to recruit a Latvian seeker called Ostapenko, not Takakura), but it was different now. She and Astoria had argued plenty at school about who would go where this coming year. By May, Ginny’s nerves started to grow, and they agreed to not talk about chasers. Then N.E.W.T.s happened and the reality of needing to start adult life started to hit Ginny, and they stopped talking about it all together. 

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to think telling Ginny all the teams he thought would send her offers was somehow helpful. Sure, he was being positive and encouraging, but he also thought dumb things like Takakura going to the Wasps had any chance of happening. Plus, Ginny just really didn’t want to think about it. There was nothing she could do now. Thinking about it only made her more anxious. 

So she gave up arguing with Harry and just nodded along. He wasn’t completely stupid about quidditch, but he hadn’t really paid attention to the league at all until after the war. Ginny, on the other hand, had been following professional quidditch for over a decade. 

Eventually, Harry grew bored of wandering the shop, bought himself a Portree scarf (“Want one too, Ginny?” he’d asked, thankfully only joking), and gave up his quidditch speculating. 

“Ready to go home?” Harry asked when they stepped into the street. “We still have some time before dinner, so no rush. We could even go to your new favourite place.”

“My new favourite place?”

“Yeah.” Harry pointed down the street toward The Leaky Cauldron, grinning. “The muggle side, Arthur.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. Harry and Ron still hadn’t gotten over Ginny going to muggle London and were doing a poor job of pretending they weren’t impressed that she’d gotten around muggle London while drunk too. Ginny may have embellished her story slightly once they were done fighting about that night, of course. As she told them, she’d simply walked into muggle London, hopped on a series of trains and buses, and arrived stress-free at the Owens’ house. (Hermione, thankfully, had been kind enough not to ask _which_ trains and buses.)

“C’mon, I’ve never been to the cinema,” Harry teased. 

“Sure, let’s go get my dad first,” Ginny said. “He’ll be gutted if we go without him, Harry.”

“Did Rhianna teach you nothing? The whole point of going to the cinema is to ignore the film and snog.”

“Since when do you know so much about the cinema?”

“Just because I never went doesn’t mean I don’t know what Dudley was up to—or at least wished he was up to. The cinema is designed for snogging.”

“Well, in that case, we’re going to have to bring my mum along too. Can’t have my dad miss out on such an important part of muggle culture.”

“You know what? On second thought, I think I’m good skipping the cinema.”

“Thank Merlin. Back to the Burrow then?” Ginny held out her hand to Harry.

“Yeah.” Harry took her hand, and Diagon Alley disappeared.

They had time to kill before dinner with her parents (Dad’s idea), so they mostly just sat on her bed talking about nothing in particular. Boring work stories, laughing at stupid stuff they or their friends had done, placing bets on how long until Hermione was Minister for Magic. Harry was leaning against the headboard, and Ginny was sideways, legs across his lap, with her back against the wall. It was nice. At least until Harry, once again, brought up his favourite and Ginny’s least favourite subject: Ginny’s career prospects.

“I bet you five hundred galleons you’ll get at least one offer, Ginny,” Harry said cheerfully.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s a stupid bet,” she said.

“No, it’s the perfect bet! If I’m wrong, I owe you five hundred galleons, and if I’m right, you’ll be a rich quidditch star, so it won’t matter anyway.”

“Think I’ll pass.”

“Okay, no bet, but, c’mon, Ginny, I’m telling you. You’re brilliant. I’ve seen you fly. A week from Monday, you’re going to be drowning in offers.”

Ginny groaned. She knew he was just trying to help—and she did like being complimented on her flying—but her anxiety about quidditch had been slowly snowballing for months and now felt like an avalanche. She didn’t want to think about it.

“Don’t worry, Gin.” Harry leaned over and kissed her. 

“Hey, remember when I just told you not to worry about Voldemort, and then you were happy and carefree?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, thanks, Ginny. Really saved me a lot of unnecessary stress with that one.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. 

“Look, even if for some unbelievable reason you don’t get an offer, there’s always next year.”

Ginny groaned.

“Okay, fine, if you don’t get a contract, we’ll run away to Mexico, learn Spanish, get new identities and start all over.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to learn Spanish. I’m terrible with languages. Rhianna’s been trying to teach me Welsh for seven years, and I still only know like three words.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere where they speak English. Kansas? I think Kansas is a place, and I’m pretty sure there are other wizards there.”

“Kansas?”

“I think it’s in America. Everything is grey there, but if you go in a tornado, it’ll take you to the wizarding world.”

“Go in a...tornado?”

“I thought you were an expert on muggle film now, Ginny.”

Ginny groaned again and shoved her foot into the side of his face, kicking him but not really. “Merlin, stop hanging out with my brother.”

“Moving to Kansas without Ron, got it.” 

“What’s the point in leaving grey England for grey Kansas anyway?” Ginny rolled so she was now upside down on the bed, kicking foot resting on Harry’s shoulder and the other folded beneath her on his lap. 

“When you go through the tornado, everything turns colourful, and you get magic shoes.”

“This sounds like a very weird film.”

“I think you’re being very insensitive to muggle culture.”

“Oh, shut up.” Ginny kicked her other foot into his stomach gently. “In any case, if you were trying to distract me, it’s not working. Worrying about the transfer window is a permanent hum in my brain.”

“Oh, should I be trying to distract you?” Harry grinned and ran his fingers along Ginny’s calf. “I was just offering some hopeful alternatives, but if you want a distraction…”

“Kansas is supposed to be a hopeful alternative?”

“Magic tornados, Ginny. And magic, sparkly shoes.”

“Wait, the shoes sparkle? Forget quidditch. We need to go to Kansas now.”

Harry laughed. “So I take it you don’t like my idea for a distraction?” Harry looked at his hand meaningfully, creeping its way up Ginny’s leg. 

“It’s not that I don’t like your idea, Harry. I just know you’re going to take it personally when it doesn’t work.” Worrying about her quidditch prospects was as automatic as breathing now. 

“C’mon, you always distract me when I’m stressed.” 

“You don’t know how to multitask, Harry.”

“You’re just as single-minded as me.”

Ginny groaned. “It’s a week. I’ll survive.” Also Ginny absolutely was not as bad as Harry. Harry had zero ability to multitask whatsoever. 

“You’ve been on edge all summer, Ginny. I want to help you relax somehow.”

Ginny sighed and rearranged herself and Harry so they were half-sitting, half-lying together on her narrow bed. She rested her head on his shoulder, and Harry put his arm around her. “I’m fine, Harry. It’s not like anyone’s going to die or get tortured if no one wants me.”

“I bet they’ll all want you.”

Ginny considered strangling him. “And if they don’t, we run away to Kansas and get sparkly, magic shoes?”

“Minor problem: I’m pretty sure you have to kill a witch to get the shoes.”

“Like the Killing Curse is hard,” Ginny said dryly.

Harry tensed. Bit unfair, seeing as he was the one who had actually used Unforgivable Curses during the war.

“Merlin, it’s a joke.” Ginny lifted her head to look him in the eyes. “Don’t tell me you were serious about Kansas?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m serious about leaving if you really wanted. I know you’ll have plenty of offers, but if it you wanted to go somewhere else—”

“I don’t.” Too many people had already left. Not just their friends either (though Luna’s absence left a particularly large gap in Ginny’s life)—the war had driven people on every side of the war out of Britain. Ginny didn’t want to run. Or, rather, she didn’t want to be the sort of person to run.

“If you ever change your mind—” Harry started to say.

“I won’t.”

“Okay.”

Ginny put her head back on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Tell me something,” Harry said.

“What?”

“You know, as a distraction. Tell me…” Harry breathed in. Harry breathed out. “Tell me about school.”

“Really? School?”

“Would you rather talk about quidditch?”

“No, thanks.”

“So how was it? What’s Hogwarts like without the yearly murder plot?”

Ginny snorted. “Well, for one, exams weren’t cancelled. I didn’t know that was possible. I thought exams were a myth.”

“Hermione must have been so relieved.”

Ginny shrugged. She didn’t really know what else to say. School was school. 

“What’s the new transfiguration professor like?” A weird question, seeing as he’d had plenty of other opportunities to ask and never showed even the slightest interest before.

“Oh. She’s okay. I don’t know. She’s really young—Charlie’s year, I think. McGonagall handled the seventh years mostly, so I never got to know her much.” Again, Ginny didn’t really know what else to say. It’s not like Harry actually cared at all about the woman. He was just trying to distract Ginny, and it wasn’t working.

Harry didn’t say anything for a few minutes, apparently out of ideas. Then, he took a deep breath and, with an obvious strain in his voice, asked, “Tell me about your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Greengrass.”

Ginny jerked away from him, pushed him, anything to put distance between them. “Fuck you.”

“No, Ginny.” Harry caught her wrists as she pushed at him. “I didn’t mean—I’m trying to—I thought—”

“Great distraction, Harry.” Ginny wrenched her wrists free and pulled her wand on him. “Instead of worrying about quidditch, I can worry some more about how you tried to send my _friend_ to the dementors.”

Harry backed up, hands up. “Ginny, I swear—”

“Why can’t you just trust me, Harry?”

“Ginny—”

“The worst part is you don’t even have to listen to me. Neville, Hermione, Luna, Rhianna—”

“Ginny!”

“What?” Ginny snapped.

Harry took several shallow breaths. “I did not try to—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“No, Ginny, listen.”

“Like you don’t?”

“I want to listen to you, Ginny.”

“Really? Because it sure seems like—”

“Ginny, please, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“There’s an easy solution, Harry. Stop being a prat.”

Harry rubbed his hands over his face and took several deep breaths.

“Quieting your self-righteous anger, are you?”

Harry lowered his hands and glared at her. “Oh, yeah, Ginny, biting my head off for daring to say her name in your presence is definitely a great way to solve this. You don’t want me to like her. You just want another reason to have a go at me.”

“I don’t need to go looking for reasons, Harry. You do plenty without my help.”

“All I did was ask a simple question because I want to understand.”

“Do you need a bloody essay any time I decide to be friends with anyone? What’s so hard to understand?”

Harry groaned and threw himself on the floor, head down, hands knotting in his hair.

“Cute tantrum, Harry.”

Harry didn’t say anything. Annoying. It was harder to yell at him when he didn’t yell back.

Ginny flung herself down on her bed, burying her face in her pillow. Harry was such a fucking arsehole. Ginny didn’t get what was so bloody difficult. She hadn’t asked him to be friends with Astoria. All she wanted was for him to stop acting like Astoria was a Death Eater. And, seeing as he’d been at Astoria’s trial, where the Ministry dropped all charges against her, he really shouldn’t have needed to be told anyway. This was so not worth several fights—and exactly why Ginny hadn’t told him to begin with.

Harry sniffed. Quietly. Just once. Ginny peaked one eye at him. He had his face in his knees now. His shoulders shook slightly as he exhaled. A pang of guilt twisted in Ginny’s gut. Was he crying? Should she do something? Would he even want her comfort? And, more importantly, Ginny was still angry. She couldn’t very well comfort him while also wanting to hex him.

Ginny closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow again. This was a stupid fight. She’d decided to date a stubborn, hard-headed, single-minded prat who had a well-documented prejudice against Slytherins. This was just the sort of thing she should have expected.

 _Neville was right, you know_ , Astoria said. Great, now imaginary Astoria was here to witness this. _You’re just giving him more reasons to hate me._

Ginny groaned. Obviously, it was just Ginny’s own conscience and churning guilt borrowing Astoria’s voice, rather than what Astoria would actually say. (The real Astoria definitely wouldn’t say a thing about Harry.) It was still annoying, and she wished imaginary Astoria would stay out of this.

_He doesn’t understand because you don’t want him to. You didn’t tell him I’m your friend because you wanted to make me part of your actual life. You told him because you were angry and wanted to hurt him._

It’d be real great if her conscience would stop beating her over the head with Astoria. That was a serious accusation, and hearing it in Astoria’s voice wasn’t helping. 

_You’re the one who gave your conscience my voice._

Well, Ginny certainly didn’t feel like unpacking _that_ choice. Ugh. She sighed and looked at Harry again. She couldn’t actually tell if he was crying. Maybe she’d just imagined it. It was pretty arrogant of her to think she could make Harry—

_Bloody hell, Ginny._

Okay, okay. Ginny slowly pulled herself up, sighed again, and went to sit on the floor next to Harry. “Sorry,” she muttered. It felt like she’d had to reach down her throat and drag the apology out of her chest. But she’d managed it. Imaginary Astoria/Ginny’s conscience should be proud.

Harry didn’t look up. His shoulders rose and fell with a slow, deep breath. “I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, Ginny,” he said quietly. “I was trying to say—” Harry groaned. “I know I’ve been awful, okay? But it feels like you’ve just sprung everything on me all at once and expect me to just snap my fingers and be a completely different person. I’m trying, Ginny, but it’s not fair to ask me to change everything I believe about the world overnight and not even help me when I try.”

“I haven’t asked you to change everything you believe, Harry.”

“You’ve been sitting on all this for how long?” Harry looked up at her finally. His eyes were red and angry, but his voice was only a little sharp. “Instead of telling me ages ago that it bothered you, you’ve just let me keep shoving my foot deeper and deeper into my mouth without realising it while you built up all this resentment. Yeah, so I probably should have known better with the gay crap or whatever, but you spent years talking about Greengrass like she was the worst person in the world, so I don’t know how I was supposed to know you were actually best friends or whatever.”

Ginny resisted the urge to remind him that he’d been at Astoria’s trial, which should have been reason enough to, at minimum, not suggest throwing her in Azkaban. 

“I asked because I am trying to be open and listen to you, Ginny. I don’t know how you could lie to me, and it hurts.” He sighed. “But I guess it’s probably partly my fault. Hermione says I’m bad at nuance and complexity. Even when I know things aren’t black and white, I still try to make them that way.”

Ginny took a deep breath, trying to let go of her anger. “Okay,” she said. “What do you want to know?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. How long have you been friends?”

Ginny counted on her fingers. “Four years almost? Since my fourth year.”

Harry frowned but shook his head and sighed. 

“What?”

“Nothing. So you’re friends because of quidditch?”

“Well, partly, but not really. It’s complicated.” It was simple, actually. Ginny wanted to stop Voldemort; Astoria wanted to stop Voldemort. Once Ginny realised they had that in common, everything she had initially hated about Astoria became everything she loved about Astoria. 

“Why did you pretend to hate her so long? I get why with the Carrows, but—”

“It was Astoria’s idea.” Ginny shrugged. “She was already spying back when it was Umbridge, and anyway, I think her parents might have actually killed her if they found out.” 

“Okay.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I feel like I’m interrogating you. I don’t know. Pretend I haven’t been a prat and tell me something. Normal friend stuff. Jokes. I don’t know. Tell me a good memory.”

Ginny frowned. Reciting facts was easier, more comfortable. Why should she tell Harry any of her good memories with Astoria? He’d just take them and spit on them. 

_I will survive a bit of spit, Ginny_ , Astoria’s voice reminded her. It would be fantastic if her brain would stop putting words in Astoria’s imaginary mouth. It was weird, and the real Astoria would die laughing if she knew Ginny was being chastised by Astoria’s voice. Ginny made a mental note to get someone to wipe the memory before Astoria learned legilimency.

Ginny swallowed her doubts and found what she hoped was a suitable “Astoria is my friend and not a Death Eater” story. “You know how the Order started sending messages with patronuses?” Ginny said. “We did that, too, but this past year, Astoria sent me lots of really stupid messages with hers just to be funny.”

“Like what?”

“Just random crap. Inside jokes, purposefully weird compliments, sometimes she just said hi and nothing else—”

“Weird compliments?”

“Yeah, like one time all she said was, ‘I like your scapula.’”

Harry pressed his eyebrows down, frowning.

“What?”

“You know what? Let’s just forget this. It’s stupid.”

“So you’ll stop trying to find a reason to put an innocent person in Azkaban? Sounds perfect.”

“I’m on your side, Ginny. I’m glad Neville—”

“Then act like it.”

Harry groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. You want proof?”

“What?”

Harry stood up. “Wait here.” Then he left.

Several minutes later, Harry returned with a box wrapped in shiny red paper.

“Go on, open it,” Harry said. He put it down on the floor in front of her and sat on the other side, smiling nervously.

“What is this?” Ginny said slowly. Dread was quietly growing in her gut. Proof? Proof of what? And why was it wrapped up like a gift?

“Just open it.”

Ginny stared at him in disbelief. He couldn’t really think there was anything in the world he could have possibly wrapped up that would instantly prove to Ginny that he’d gotten over whatever his bloody issue with Astoria was. The fact that, just moments ago, he was insistent that he needed a humanising story to get over it didn’t help.

“I promise nothing in there will bite.” Well, that ruled out the unlikely possibility that it was Astoria herself hiding in the box.

Ginny sighed. Harry was not going to give up. Convinced Harry was vastly overestimating whatever was in the box, Ginny tore the paper and opened the lid. She froze immediately. 

“I could tell how much you liked it,” Harry said brightly.

Ginny’s heart was thundering so loud she could barely hear him. Not that she cared to hear him anymore. Her one real complaint—that Harry didn’t listen to her—was staring back at her.

“Take it back,” Ginny said. The stupid fucking dress she’d tried on at Harry’s insistence, at Harry’s promise that he wouldn’t buy her anything—that dress was now in a box on the floor of her bedroom. And worse still were the fucking heels, laid neatly beside the dress.

“What?” Harry said, somehow shocked by her reaction.

“I said take it back, Harry.”

“Ginny, it’s fine, really.”

Ginny didn’t want to fight with Harry. The door was open, and if she yelled, her parents would hear her. She really, really, really didn’t want to fight in front of them. She also didn’t want to _still_ be fighting about this either. They’d fought about this last summer, when Harry had first started working as an Auror and was far more eager than Ginny liked to spend his entire paycheck on her. She’d given him a spending limit for Christmas, which he’d gone over, and then they’d bickered all summer about it once again, ever since they officially got back together. She was so tired of this stupid fight. 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Harry said. The defensiveness and hurt in his voice was the last straw for Ginny.

“One fucking thing, Harry!” Ginny shrieked, jumping to her feet. “All I asked was one fucking thing, and you can’t listen!”

“I—” Harry scrambled to his feet, hands up.

“What the fuck is this supposed to prove? That I can’t trust anything you say? You promised me, Harry, and then you immediately broke that promise. Were you just lying to manipulate me?”

“I meant it when I said it, but then I saw how happy you looked in it, and—”

“You kept telling me the whole time to just relax and have fun, and the moment I do, you decide to break your promise? Fuck you, Harry.”

“I was trying to—fucking hell, Ginny. I just can’t win. Nothing is ever fucking good enough for you, is it?”

“What?”

“I say one stupid fucking thing, and Kingsley already all but fires me—”

“Representing the Ministry at some elite party in Brussels is all but fired?”

“—and I’ve got Neville and Hermione already on my case for it too—”

“Sounds awful.”

“—so I try to do one decent fucking thing, and you just tear my head off for it.”

“You can’t just solve problems by throwing money at them!”

“You’re not listening to me!”

“Wow, I wonder what it would be like to not be listened to.”

“Would you shut up and listen to me for once, Ginny? Can you hold your tongue for one fucking minute and let me explain?” 

Ginny, well aware of how immature it was, stuck out her tongue and grabbed it. There, holding her fucking tongue. 

“Look, you’ve been on my fucking arse about not being open minded enough or whatever, and you’re right, Ginny. I’m a narrow minded git. But I’m trying. And then I saw you.” Harry groaned. “I wasn’t going to buy you anything, okay? You asked, and I meant it when I said okay, but then I saw you and I _heard_ you, Ginny. Like really heard you. You’ve been telling me Greengrass is your friend, and I didn’t believe you, but then I saw the way your whole face lit up when you mentioned her. I don’t get it, but if she’s—if she’s your friend, then I—I—I believe you.”

Ginny let go of her tongue, but too many thoughts were competing to make their way out, so she just stared at Harry. 

“It’s green, like Slytherin,” he said, as if explaining a bit of highly complex magical theory. 

“Take it back,” Ginny said quietly. It could have been a thirty foot mural of Astoria for all Ginny cared, and it still wouldn’t have proven a thing except that Harry was an idiot.

“What? But I’ve just told you—”

“Take. It. Back.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Ginny.” In an instant, Harry’s defensiveness vanished, replaced instead by fury, finger pointed angrily at Ginny.

“Why? Because I’m not impressed you threw some spare galleons at something I specifically asked you not to buy? Because you think you can just do and say whatever the fuck you want and wave it away with money?”

“You want me to love that double-crossing, opportunist bitch—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Harry.” 

“—who tortured you and our friends—”

“I’ve told you that’s a lie.”

“—so fine, you like her fucking torture shoes? I bought you a pair now too.”

“They’re not _torture_ shoes, you fucking prick.”

“Whatever. You looked happy, so I bought them for you to make you happy. I bought them because you were talking about Greengrass, and I was trying to show you I’m okay with it.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“With you being friends now.”

“So that’s why you just called her a ‘double-crossing, opportunist bitch?’ Because you think that’s what I am too?”

“Yeah, maybe. Makes sense now why you wouldn’t even tell your boyfriend about your _friend_ , I guess.”

“I don’t need my boyfriend’s permission to be friends with anyone.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“Just to get this straight, you not only didn’t listen to me about not buying me stupidly expensive clothes, but you also haven’t listened to a single fucking thing I’ve said about Astoria, have you? Because all I said was that you need to stop talking shit.”

“I wasn’t saying shit until you blew up at me for trying to do something nice.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? Did I imperius you and force you to say it? And I suppose I forced you to break your fucking promise when I smiled at a pair of shoes?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you.”

“Nothing will ever be good enough for you, will it?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? All I’m asking you to do is stop treating me like your fucking trophy wife and maybe, just maybe, spend a bit less of your time insulting people—especially my friends. You can keep your shitty opinions to yourself, you know.”

“Fine. You know what? I can solve this for you.” Harry threw up his arms and stormed out the door. “It’s over,” he called over his shoulder.

Ginny ran after him. “What?” She had heard him, but she had surely misheard him or misunderstood. This was just a stupid fight, and _she_ was the one who was upset anyway.

Harry stopped midway down the stairs, glaring up at her. “I’m never going to be good enough for perfect fucking Ginny Weasley, so I’m done trying. I’m breaking up with you, Ginny.”

Someone had removed the earth beneath Ginny and hollowed out her insides. 

Harry turned and continued back down the stairs. “You can keep the fucking gift.”

“Wait, Harry, don’t!” Ginny willed her legs to move and ran after him. “Harry, please!” She grabbed his arm just before he made it to the front door, but he wrenched his arm free.

“Goodbye, Ginny.”

And then, with a crack, Harry was gone. Just gone. Ginny swayed, stumbled, sank to her knees. Harry was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million apologies that *this* is the chapter coming out the same day The Author is in the news for more transphobia. I miiiiight put up the next chapter early to make up for this one being so rough, oof.


	18. So no one told you life was gonna be this gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last chapter was rough, and it's a rough day for trans fans and our allies, so you know what? Here, have the next chapter a whole week early. It's much less shout-y.

> Wednesday, 11 August 1999. The Burrow. Midday.

“Get up,” Rhianna said for about the twentieth time.

But Ginny didn’t want to get up. She was just fine here, head buried beneath her bedsheets. The darkness (annoyingly less dark now that Rhianna had thrown the curtains open) was comforting, safe. So what if she hadn’t gotten up in days? She liked it here.

“I swear on my life, Ginny, I will imperius you out of this bloody house if I have to.”

Ginny groaned her complaints. Rhianna had asked her to come with her to Diagon Alley today to get Astoria’s school things for her. Ginny didn’t see why Rhianna needed her help. It was an excuse to drag Ginny out, and she did not want to leave this room. 

“Fine. Have it your way.” 

Ginny’s precious bedsheets suddenly vanished. “Hey!” Ginny shrieked. She sat up and reached for her wand, but Rhianna grabbed it faster.

“Oh, good, she lives.” Rhianna grinned. 

“Fuck off,” Ginny grumbled to Rhianna without really meaning it. 

“You look and smell like hell, Ginny.”

“Good.” 

Rhianna pulled open Ginny’s wardrobe and flung some clean clothes at Ginny. “Here, go stand under the water for five minutes and then put these on.”

Ginny glared at her and then flung herself back down on the bed, pulling her pillow over her head. The pillow vanished. “Give that back!” 

“I’ll vanish your clothes next if I have to. Go shower.”

Ginny sat up and glared at her some more. “Not fair. I can’t even call you gay for threatening to vanish my clothes.” 

“Sure you can. Here.” Rhianna vanished Ginny’s shirt.

“Rhianna!” Ginny shrieked, throwing her arms over her chest.

Rhianna rolled her eyes and turned her head away from Ginny. “I’ve seen you naked before, Ginny. Go shower.”

“Lucky I don’t have my bloody wand,” Ginny muttered, grabbing the clothes Rhianna had thrown her and holding them over her breasts, “or I’d vanish yours too.”

Rhianna snorted. “That is the dumbest threat I’ve ever heard, and I live with Astoria.”

“Shut up.” Ginny grabbed an old teddy bear and threw it at Rhianna’s head. Then she stood up and stormed out of the room to go shower. Stupid bloody Rhianna. 

“I’m clean,” Ginny grumbled when she found Rhianna in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea and chatting cheerfully with Mum. Ginny had resigned herself to spending the day being aggressively cheered up by Rhianna. “Happy?” 

“Oh, I’m absolutely gay,” Rhianna deadpanned.

Ginny froze, eyes wide. She looked at Mum, who didn’t seem to have noticed Rhianna casually outing herself at all and was just smiling.

“C’mon, we’ve got a shopping list longer than a quidditch pitch. Actually, I think we might be buying a quidditch pitch.” She set her mug down on the counter and picked her rucksack off the floor. “Thanks for the tea, Mrs. Weasley. Shall we, Ginny?”

“Stay safe, girls,” Mum said. Okay, so she definitely didn’t notice Rhianna calling herself gay.

“It’s Diagon Alley, Mum,” Ginny said. “I think we’ll survive.” 

“I’ll do my best to keep her safe from exploitative marketing tactics,” Rhianna said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Do you still have my wand?”

“Yeah,” Rhianna said. “You can have it back once you’ve had lunch. Let’s go.” She smiled at Mum. “We’ll be back for dinner. Bye, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Good bye, dears,” Mum said.

“Bye, Mum,” Ginny mumbled, and then she followed Rhianna out.

“You did not make a fucking _gay_ joke in front of my mum,” Ginny hissed as Rhianna handed Ginny a basket of fish and chips.

“Sure I did,” Rhianna said. “I think she thought it was funny.” She sat down at a free table, and Ginny followed. 

“She did not—she shouldn’t—she—”

“Merlin, Ginny, relax. Your mum doesn’t care that I’m gay.” Rhianna was speaking at a normal volume, which Ginny thought seemed far too loud for this sort of thing. Anyone could overhear. 

“She doesn’t _know_ you’re gay. If she knew—”

Rhianna sighed, set down the chip she was about to eat, and looked at Ginny seriously. “Your mum does — not — care,” she said firmly. “My mum told her and your dad last week, and they’re perfectly fine with it.”

Ginny knew just how terrible of a liar Rhianna was. She had to be telling the truth, but Ginny couldn’t believe it. Her mum had just sat there with Rhianna, perfectly friendly, perfectly normal, apparently well aware that Rhianna was gay. Ginny was sure her mother should have at least been uncomfortable. 

“My mum’s been trying to answer all their questions and whatnot,” Rhianna continued. “She leads a couple of support groups for people with gay kids or friends or whatnot, so it’s easy for her. She heard your mum lodged her own foot halfway down her esophagus the other day—Astoria’s words, by the way—and decided to help.”

“Wait, you told Astoria what my mum said about her?” Astoria definitely didn’t need to hear more of that crap. 

Rhianna shrugged. “Astoria thinks it’s hilarious. Anyway, it’s really not a big deal, Ginny. Your mum didn’t even need my mum saying anything to know she’d said something awful. My mum has also been telling them what a delight Astoria is, and your parents happen to like my mum, so everything is just fine. My mum has it all handled, so you can stop worrying.”

Ginny didn’t really know what to say to that. Rhianna’s mum was the only adult Ginny knew who was, without a doubt, entirely supportive of gay people. Rhianna’s house felt like a different world, a safe haven Hermione’s litany of horrors couldn’t reach, and Ginny was sure it was because Ms. Owens was so firmly in support of her daughter. Could she really have convinced Ginny’s parents—in the span of about a week even!—to be perfectly fine with Rhianna being gay? 

“Eat, Ginny,” Rhianna said gently. “Don’t you want your wand back?”

“Oh, sorry.” Ginny pulled herself from her thoughts and started eating. 

She’d barely taken one bite before realising just how incredibly hungry she was. Her mum had been bringing food to her room, but Ginny barely touched any of it. She hadn’t felt like eating. She hadn’t felt like doing anything. Which was, of course, exactly why Rhianna had bullied Ginny into coming to Diagon Alley today. It wasn’t like she actually needed any help picking up Astoria’s school things. 

“Okay,” Rhianna said, flipping through parchment she’d pulled out of her robes as she ate. “It looks like we just need to go into Gringotts and show them this letter, and then they’ll give us some sort of enchanted coins to use as payment everywhere. Sounds like I’ll have to register my wand, but Astoria told Averford I’d be the one picking things up, so it should be fine.”

“Averford?” Ginny asked. She knew one Averford—Teresa Averford, manager for the Holyhead Harpies—but it didn’t make any sense in context.

Rhianna looked at Ginny and frowned. “Oh. Astoria didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” 

Rhianna shuffled through the parchment, looking for something. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve got the actual letter on me.” She looked back up at Ginny, grinning now. “Astoria got a scholarship.”

“What?” Ginny’s heart jumped. Astoria worked a million hours a day because she didn’t want to burden Rhianna’s mum with the costs of a third child. She deserved a break. 

“All books and supplies, including any extracurriculars, at Astoria’s discretion, and a stipend of five hundred galleons.”

“McGonagall’s given her all that?”

“No, it’s from the Harpies.”

“The Harpies?” Ginny shrieked, probably much louder than she should have. Holy shit, the fucking Harpies? “Why?” 

“You know how Astoria has been bugging McGonagall about quidditch for months? The Harpies agreed to sponsor the league. They’re calling it The Holyhead Harpies Youth Academy.”

Ginny could have died right then and there, the happiest she’d ever been. Her patronus could have wiped out every dementor on the planet. An entire lifetime spent fantasising about one day just _meeting_ the Harpies, her favourite quidditch team by a mile—no, a whole fucking galaxy—and they were _sponsoring_ the league she’d helped Astoria and Rhianna build? Her idols thought they’d built something so good they wanted to throw money at it and slap their name on it? Holy fucking shit. 

Then her excitement was punctuated by a much less cheerful thought. “Astoria didn’t tell me,” she said, trying not to sound too hurt. Astoria had to have known just how excited Ginny would be, and it wasn’t like Astoria didn’t know how to send a bloody owl. Or a patronus, for that matter.

“Oh,” Rhianna said. “Don’t take it too personally, Ginny. She didn’t actually tell me either. I just saw the letter. I think she’s a bit freaked out, really.”

“Why? It’s amazing.”

“You know Astoria. She’s a perfectionist. She’s freaking herself out with all the ways she can fuck it up, especially without the two of us to help cover for her. Plus, she might have just been worried you’d be upset.”

“Upset? Why would I be upset?” 

“Because it’s your team, and because she thinks she’s a spoiled rich kid who gets everything handed to her. She thinks we earned it, not her.”

“Well, that’s a bunch of rubbish. She deserves it.” 

“I know. Like I said, don’t take it personally. Honestly, she might have just been waiting to tell you in person.”

“Right. So we’re buying her the nicest shit we can with her scholarship, yeah?”

“That’s the plan.” 

Their first stop was, oddly enough, in muggle London. Rhianna said she wanted to get the longer trip out of the way early but didn’t actually bother telling Ginny where they were going. Ginny was too preoccupied with trying to familiarise herself with every bit of the muggle world to consider that it was weird to need to go to muggle London for Astoria’s school supplies.

She definitely had questions though when Rhianna pulled her into a bookshop with “GAY’S THE WORD” emblazoned in large letters above the door. 

“Rhianna,” a kind-looking man said cheerfully as they walked in. He was sitting at the till, smiling, a book open in front of him. “You’re early.” It sounded like a joke.

Rhianna laughed. “Oh, yeah, I’m not going to make it tonight,” she said. “Her family’s having me over for dinner.” Rhianna looked at Ginny and smiled.

“Oh?” He opened his mouth slightly, grinning, looking excited, and his eyebrows shot up. “Is this—?”

“Oh, god, no,” Rhianna said quickly, shaking her head. “No. She’s—nope.” Rhianna put her arm over Ginny’s shoulder. “Ginny’s an _ally_.” She drug the last word out meaningfully and exchanged a look with the man that definitely looked like some kind of inside joke. Ginny didn’t get the joke. “Astoria got a scholarship, and they’re paying for everything. Books, supplies—look at this.” Rhianna let go of Ginny and dug around in her rucksack until she found the envelope full of instructions and lists from Astoria. She pulled out one specific piece of parchment, put it on the counter, and pointed. “They’ve explicitly told her they’ll cover anything she needs for extracurriculars. They have no clue who they’re dealing with.”

“This is for quidditch?” He said as he skimmed, sounding impressed. Ginny was more than a little confused. Surely this man was a muggle, wasn’t he? Why did he know about quidditch?

“Yeah.”

“Harpies are a professional team?” Definitely a muggle.

“Yeah, premier league, basically.” 

“Well, that’s fab.” He looked up and beamed. “Tell her congratulations for me.”

“Will do. Anyway, they’ve given us some sort of—well, Astoria said they’re like cheques?” Rhianna pulled out an enchanted coin they’d gotten at Gringotts earlier and handed it to the man. The goblin with whom they had spoken explained that Rhianna just needed to present shopkeepers with one of the coins, which would record the details of the transaction, including price and items, and her wand would be used to bind the agreement on behalf of the Harpies. Then the shopkeepers would just take the coin to Gringotts later to collect their money.

“Oh, I’ve seen these,” he said as he inspected it. “Yeah, they’re pretty much just cheques. I’ll just have you pay downstairs to be safe.” He handed the coin back to Rhianna.

“Perfect.” Rhianna put the coin and pieces of parchment away again. “Anyway, we’re doing all of Astoria’s school shopping for her today, so we’re here to spend her scholarship money on stuff for the society. Her idea, of course.”

“Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Good to meet you, Ginny.”

“Er, yeah,” Ginny said awkwardly.

“C’mon,” Rhianna said, and she pulled Ginny further into the shop. 

There were garlands of little rainbow flags hanging from the ceiling, rows and rows of books all along the walls, posters on every remaining inch of wall and ceiling. While it was by no means a large shop, Ginny was nonetheless struck, as was quickly becoming typical in the muggle world, by how much bigger it was than she could have ever expected. 

“All these books are about being gay?” Ginny asked Rhianna.

“Yes and no,” Rhianna said as she pulled books off the shelves and flicked through them. “Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender—all sorts. And some of it is about all that, and some of it is just written by people who are. These ones are all nonfiction here, so we’ve got, for example—” Rhianna pushed a book called _Bi Any Other Name_ into Ginny’s hands “—essays about bisexuality or being bisexual, or—” the next one was called _Gender Trouble_ “—why gender roles are a bunch of tosh, or—” now it was _Virtual Equality_ “—all about what rights we should or shouldn’t be fighting for and why.” Rhianna then pointed around the rest of the shop. “We’ve got poetry, novels and fiction, art, magazines, comics, and, of course, erotica.”

Ginny felt her cheeks turning pink and quickly looked away from the last section. “Wow.”

“Oh, and the wizarding world section is in the cellar. Anyway, I figured we could use some more educational books, especially stuff on gender and bisexuality, since the ones Sprout has are mostly just information about homosexuality.”

“Sprout? Professor Sprout?”

“Yeah, she runs the society. Well, not runs. More like makes sure we have space and privacy and, of course, the herbology excuse, but—”

“Herbology? Wait, you mean the Herbology Club?” Rhianna had been part of the Herbology Club at school for ages, as long as Ginny could remember. And not just Rhianna. Rhianna, Colin, Astoria—Ginny felt a strange current go through her body. Was Astoria gay?

“Yeah, er, that’s the gay society. Obviously don’t go spreading that, as it’d just fuel nasty rumours, and we’ve got allies in it too anyway, so don’t start assuming anyone you know in it is gay. And don’t you try asking me either.”

“I didn’t know there was a gay society.” Astoria couldn’t be gay, right? She dated Phil. She’d probably just been going to support Rhianna. The thought nagged at Ginny’s brain.

“Hogwarts is full of secrets.”

Rhianna returned to searching through books, and Ginny was left to her thoughts. Astoria had, apparently, been part of Hogwarts’ gay society for years and now wanted to spend her scholarship money on gay books. Ginny probably shouldn’t be surprised. Astoria did nothing halfway. If her best friend was gay, Astoria would move heaven and hell in support of gay people. 

But—and Ginny knew she shouldn’t even be thinking about it—was it really just about Rhianna? Or did Astoria care so much because she was gay too? _I’ve offered_ , Astoria had told Ginny. That’s when it hit Ginny. 

“You’re in love with each other,” Ginny said, finally understanding. Of course. It _was_ for Rhianna. It always was. 

“What?” Rhianna set down the book she was looking at and looked up at Ginny, brow furrowed with confusion. 

“You and Astoria.”

“Oh, Jesus.” 

“You’ve been in love with each for years.”

“Bloody hell.”

“I mean I realised there was no way you could possibly _not_ fancy her, but I figured you just didn’t want to. But she totally—”

“Ginny,” Rhianna said firmly, sounding thoroughly exhausted.

“What?”

Rhianna stood up, put her hands on Ginny’s shoulders, and looked her square in the eye. “I do not fancy Astoria. Astoria does not fancy me. We are both very open about that sort of thing with each other, and—trust me—there’s absolutely nothing like that between us, from either of us. Okay?”

Well, Rhianna was the world’s worst liar, Ginny thought. It made no sense, but she was clearly telling the truth—or at the very least wholeheartedly believed she was. “Okay.”

Then Rhianna grinned. “Astoria will be delighted to hear you think she’s so bloody irresistible, by the way.” Rhianna dropped her arms and turned back to the shelves to resume her perusal of the books.

“I didn’t—I don’t—” Ginny sputtered, feeling her face burn. That’s not what she’d said. Maybe she had said something _like_ that, but Rhianna was saying it like Ginny _fancied_ Astoria. Which was definitely not true and made no sense at all. For one, Astoria was a girl, and Ginny _definitely_ liked boys. A lot. 

“Oh, relax, I’m not going to tell her.” 

“All I said was—”

“Help me out here, will you?”

“What?”

“Stop sputtering about Astoria and help me decide how to spend her money. The gays need our help, Ginny.” She pointed at a small pile of books at her feet. “Look at them and tell me which ones seem most helpful for explaining things to someone who hasn’t been gaying it up for years. I’m too gay for this shit.”

Ginny sighed, knelt down, and started looking through the books Rhianna had picked out. Rhianna, meanwhile, kept pulling books off the shelves, wandering the shop, grabbing more books. Ginny suspected Rhianna had gotten more than a little carried away when, after Ginny’s somewhat haphazard reviews, they were still left with a not-small pile of books, ranging from essays on bisexuality to a mother’s real-life account of raising her transgender daughter, from poetry collections to a kid’s book about having a gay dad. 

When Rhianna finished putting the other books back, she led Ginny to a display rack of postcards.

“Right, magic time,” Rhianna said. She spun the rack in a circle three times, and then she nudged Ginny forward at the wall. “Go on. It’s just like Platform Nine and Three Quarters.” Ginny stumbled forward and then, suddenly, fell. A split second later, she landed in a small, dimly-lit room with even more books and stepped forward. Rhianna landed gracefully behind her a moment later.

“This is the part you told Hermione about,” Ginny said.

“Yeah.” Rhianna took out her wand and lit the candles that were floating above the shelves. She also let go of her stack of books, freeing her arms while they floated beside her. Rhianna grabbed a couple more books and added them to her floating stack.

A soft thud behind them announced someone else’s presence. Ginny turned and saw the shopkeeper standing where Ginny and Rhianna had both landed.

“Find everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rhianna said. “Thanks.” She flicked her wand, and the books floated over to the shopkeeper. “Just these.”

He laughed. “Only a few, I see.”

“Oh, and these.” Rhianna grabbed several pamphlets out of a display and set them on top of the books. 

“Those are free.”

“Charge us anyway. It’s a donation. We’re gay Robin Hood today, stealing from the straights to give to the gays.” Rhianna reached into her bag, pulled out one of the enchanted coins, and handed it to the shopkeeper. “I’m assuming you know how to work this thing?”

“I believe it makes an itemised receipt that the scholarship folks will be able to see. Is there something else I should make all these books about?”

“No, Astoria knows. She said it’s fine. They can know what she’s buying.” 

“Well, in that case, I think you just need to tap it with your wand to turn it on.” He held it toward her, and she tapped it once. “Right then, here we are.” He grabbed the first book, read out the title and what Ginny assumed was the price (pounds and pence were muggle money, right?), and then grabbed the next one. When he had finished (including ringing up the free pamphlets), he held the coin back out to Rhianna. It had grown considerably larger. “Then you just need to verbally agree to the total and tap it with your wand again like a signature.”

Rhianna glanced at the number and shrugged. “I agree to this total.” She tapped the coin again with her wand, and it emitted a brief burst of light. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he said. “I’ll just take it to Gringotts later to get it exchanged for actual money. Do you want a bag?”

“We’re okay, thanks.”

“Right. I best get back upstairs. Get the lights, will you?”

“Sure.”

Then he spun an identical display rack three times and vanished from the room. Rhianna put out the lights, tossed the books in her rucksack, and led Ginny out and back to Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this make up for the first of today's two chapters being rough? ^.^;


	19. She don't use butter, and she don't use cheese; she don't use jelly or any of these

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: discussions about mental health, self-hate, mention of Riddle’s diary (child abuse, grooming), sexist language (“bitch”), mention of homophobia

“I think we need ice cream,” Rhianna announced as they stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, glancing at her watch. They had made it through the majority of Astoria’s lists (the Hogwarts list, a list from Shah, and a list of everything else Astoria had thought of), but they still needed to go by the apothecary for a few things and pick up owl treats from Magical Menagerie.

“What, now?” Ginny asked. “Don’t you think we should get the last things first?” She eyed Rhianna suspiciously.

“Nope. Need ice cream now. No time to waste.” Rhianna took Ginny by the elbow and pulled her down the street. 

When they stepped inside Fortescue’s, Ginny literally screamed.

“Oh, hello, Ginny,” Luna said cheerily, as if Ginny hadn’t just screamed, as if Luna wasn’t just casually standing in the middle of a shop in London when she was supposed to be in Lithuania, as if it hadn’t been _months_ since they’d seen each other.

Ginny attempted speech and failed horribly, sputtering out an assortment of sounds that definitely did not add up to any sort of words or coherent speech in any way.

“Ice cream?” Rhianna said helpfully.

Ginny managed to sort herself out enough to give Luna a proper hug, but she had so many questions. Luna had left for Lithuania as soon as they’d finished school, searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and any other fascinating things she might find. Ginny hadn’t heard a single word from her—not that she had expected any. She assumed Luna was off having fun on her adventure, and when she had an update worth sharing, she’d send an owl.

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, once her mouth finally seemed functional again.

“Visiting you, silly,” Luna said. “Rhianna said you were sad.”

Ginny grabbed Rhianna’s arm. “How?” she demanded. There was no way she’d just sent an owl. It wouldn’t have reached Luna fast enough for her to already be here. 

“She came to visit,” Luna said, as if Rhianna had just popped over to the West Country, not all the way to Lithuania. Rhianna went to bloody Lithuania, tracked down Ginny’s best friend, and brought her back in a manner of days? And, more importantly, had somehow managed to keep it a surprise?

Ginny stared at her, torn between amazement, gratitude, and a sudden wave of shame. Ginny hadn’t left her bed in days, and she had fought furiously to stay that way despite her friends’ and family’s best efforts. She had wanted them to all give up on her, and Rhianna, ever the optimist, had simply doubled her efforts instead.

“Don’t worry about it, Ginny,” Rhianna said. “Pick your ice cream.”

“Are you already hungry again?” Ginny asked Rhianna. She’d paid for their ice creams and disappeared before Ginny could say anything (like “thank you,” which felt wholly inadequate). Now she’d sat herself down with Luna and Ginny, ice cream in one hand, and a container of chips in the other. 

“No,” Rhianna said. 

Then, there was a crack, and Astoria appeared right behind Rhianna, still in her Healer uniform. 

“Jesus Christ!” Rhianna said, nearly leaping out of her seat. 

“Sorry,” Astoria said. “Oh, hi, Ginny.” She looked at Ginny and smiled. 

Ginny shot Rhianna a confused look. “What is this?” Ginny asked. “A surprise party?” 

“C’mere, Ginny,” Astoria said. “Stand up so I can hug you properly.”

Ginny got up, and Astoria gave her a long, tight hug. Astoria took several slow breaths without letting go of Ginny. 

“He’s an idiot,” Astoria said after a moment. “I’m so sorry.” Then she took one more slow breath, let go of Ginny, and kissed her cheek. “Not a party, sorry, Ginny. I’m going to the muggle side to grab the tube. Work. Just stopping by to say I love you.” She kissed Ginny’s cheek again then turned to Rhianna. 

“Here, I got you chips,” Rhianna said. 

“Light of my life, goddess of the potato harvest,” Astoria sighed happily, taking the container of chips from her. She brushed a hand through Rhianna’s hair and kissed her cheek too. “Thank you, you golden-haired angel. I’m bloody famished.” Astoria stuffed a handful of chips in her mouth and grinned. Then her eyes fell on Luna, and her smile faltered slightly. “Hi, Luna. How’s Lithuania?” Four words? Four words in a row to Luna, and Astoria’s voice sounded so close to casual that most people would have been fooled. Ginny resisted the urge to congratulate her.

“Oh, it’s just lovely,” Luna said airly. “You would like Ladakalnis, Astoria. There’s a beautiful view of the lakes in the area there, and they have such delightful little creatures.” She stared off into the distance, smiling, as if remembering the creatures she’d met.

“One of them tried to eat my leg,” Rhianna said. “You’d love them, Astoria.”

“Maybe I’ll come visit when I have a holiday,” Astoria said. She looked back at Ginny. “Okay, sorry, Ginny, but I do really need to get to work.” She gave Ginny another tight hug. “Oh, and here. _Expecto patronum!_ ” A wisp of silver left Astoria’s wand, and she frowned. “Sorry.” 

Ginny and Rhianna exchanged a glance.

Astoria shook her head, took a deep breath, and tried again. This time, a silver ferret burst from her wand and hopped onto Ginny’s shoulders. “There. Now Noodle doesn’t have to miss the party.” 

“Thanks,” Ginny said. A fuzzy memory of angrily kicking at a long, slinky blur of silver clawed at her stomach. 

“I’m always just an owl away,” Astoria said. “Or fire. Or, you know, you are always wel—”

“I know. Go to work.”

“Right.” Astoria looked at her awkwardly, like she really didn’t want to go. “Bye, Ginny, Rhianna.” She paused, still staring at Ginny, and then she abruptly walked over to Luna. “Stand up. Er, please.”

Luna practically leapt from her seat, giving Astoria not even a split second to change her mind before Luna had her arms around Astoria. Astoria hugged her back. Sort of. Her arms were definitely around Luna at least. 

“Safe travels,” Astoria said awkwardly when Luna let her go. Then Astoria grabbed her chips, waved, and headed off toward The Leaky Cauldron and the muggle world. 

Ginny watched her for a moment and then sat back down. Astoria’s patronus slipped down into her lap and curled up, purring like real ferrets definitely don’t. Ginny felt her cheeks burn slightly, suddenly self-conscious. Astoria had sent Noodle to the Burrow every night since Harry dumped Ginny, and the stupid thing was cute and soothing and suddenly very public. It was like Astoria herself had just plopped into Ginny’s lap, purring and sending soft, warm feelings through Ginny—and that felt far too private for the middle of Diagon Alley. 

So she turned to Rhianna and arched an eyebrow. “Light of my life?” Ginny said. “Goddess? Angel?” 

Rhianna sighed and shook her head. “Really, Ginny,” she said, “I promise I know Astoria, and the answer is definitely not.” She looked at Luna. “I think she missed you, Luna.”

Luna, who had already gotten herself lost in whatever fantastical thoughts she had now, came back to reality and smiled. “Oh, yes, I missed her too. I do hope she has a holiday soon.”

“Me too,” Rhianna said. 

They finished their ice cream while Luna told them far-fetched tales of her explorations through Lithuania. She hadn’t found the Crumple-Horned Snorkak yet, but she’d found plenty of other fascinating creatures anyway. Rhianna led them through the last of the shopping, handling all the actual thinking while Ginny listened to Luna’s stories. Then they picked up a couple things for Luna and returned to the Burrow. 

Rhianna stayed inside to help Mum with dinner, and Luna and Ginny went out back. They found a good, shady tree to lie under and laughed at Noodle, who kept curling up on Ginny’s stomach, bounding over to Luna for a quick hello, and then returning to Ginny. It was a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts that were pulling at the back of Ginny’s mind. 

Luna and Noodle kept Ginny distracted, but eventually, Ginny grew tired of avoiding the subject and said, “I can’t stop being angry, Luna. I want to. I just can’t.” She stared up at the leaves above, finding the flecks of sunlight that crept through. 

Noodle wiggled up Ginny’s body and nuzzled her neck. Stupid physical embodiment of happiness being cute and soothing. 

“Angry is a reasonable thing to be sometimes,” Luna said. 

“I think I hate Harry. Every time I think about him, I just feel so angry. I know I’ve been awful to him, and he should be upset with me, but I can’t stop being angry at him for leaving. It feels like he did it just to hurt me, just to remind me how awful I am. I should feel bad, but all I feel is angry.”

“What do you think you should feel bad about?”

“Everything. I don’t know. Yelling at him. Not caring about how he feels about anything. Being selfish. Taking everything out on him all the time.” Ginny groaned. “I just want him to suck it up and take it. He can be the hero of the bloody world, but he can’t handle me yelling? I don’t hit him. I don’t hex him. Other than the night he went after Malfoy, I’ve never laid a hand on him, and that was because he had already attacked the bloke Malfoy was with. I’m furious because he’s right. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. I just thought he knew that when we started dating. I thought he knew what he was signing up for. We had a whole year off. He could have just told me in June if he thought I was such an awful person, and we wouldn’t have gotten back together. He could have spared me all this, and he didn’t.”

“You’re angry with yourself.” Luna said it like it was a fascinating discovery, an intellectual curiosity no different from the habitat of wrackspurts. If Ginny didn’t know Luna as well as she did, it might have made her furious. Instead, it felt oddly comforting, like being able to take her rage out of her chest and just look at it like an angry grindylow trapped in a glass tank, powerless.

“Yeah,” Ginny said. She let out a breath and stroked Noodle. As she did, she could feel some of the patronus’ magic seeping into her skin, rushing through her veins to fight off the darkness and misery that clutched at Ginny’s core. “It’s so much easier to blame him. Even for being a prat about Astoria.” Ginny took a slow, pained breath. “He’s been awful about her, but I think I wanted him to be. I felt like such crap about—” Ginny stopped herself and looked at Luna. “Luna, were you ever part of the Herbology Club?”

Luna blinked a couple times, thinking. “Well, I thought Astoria told me we were going to a Herbology Club meeting, but I don’t think there were many plants, and I don’t think we talked about any plants either. Perhaps I misheard her.”

“Wait, what? _Astoria_ took you to Herbology Club?”

“Oh, no, I think it must have been a different club.”

“When?” Ginny could not imagine any point in their lives when Astoria could have just casually brought Luna of all people along to the gay society. “And how? Astoria can’t even speak to you, Luna.”

Luna looked at Ginny curiously. “Of course she can. We’re friends.”

“You just saw her, Luna. She said like five words to you and could barely even cast a patronus. She feels bad about letting the Death Eaters take you every time she looks at you. How on earth did she take you to Herbology Club?” 

“Astoria doesn’t feel bad about that.” Luna might as well have thrown in a “silly goose” for how baffled and amused she sounded at Ginny’s insistence that Astoria was riddled with guilt. 

“Yes, she does. She—okay, nevermind. Not the point.”

“Astoria is just afraid of going to Malfoy Manor.”

“What?”

“It’s not a very nice place. Have you been?”

“No, Luna,” Ginny said, feeling impatient, “I haven’t been to Malfoy Manor.” 

“Oh, good. Astoria goes a lot. They’re not very nice to her there. I don’t think they’d be very nice to you either.”

Ginny stared at her. “Astoria does not go to the Malfoys, Luna. She wants nothing to do with them.”

“Well, of course not. They’re rather unpleasant, aren’t they? That’s why she’s afraid of going.”

“She doesn’t—” Ginny caught herself as she finally figured out what Luna was actually saying. “You mean in her head.”

“Yes, of course. It’s much faster to travel that way.”

Ginny shook herself. They were getting off track. “Herbology Club isn’t for plants, Luna. It’s—Luna, this is a secret, okay? People could get hurt. It’s for gay people and their allies. You can’t tell anyone that though.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. Bit of a funny name for it. Oh! I see, because it’s a secret. Very clever.” She smiled.

“So you’re—it’s fine with you? People being gay?”

“It’s very interesting, isn’t it?” She looked up at the tree dreamily. “I didn’t know you could fancy girls. I wonder what it’d be like. Have you ever fancied a girl? I don’t think I have, but of course if you’re not looking for something, it’s hard to find it, isn’t it?”

Ginny sighed. Of course Luna thought homosexuality was just another fascinating quirk of existence. “No, I’m straight. One of my friends is gay though, and—well, I said some really awful things about gay people before. I knew it was terrible even then, but I just ignored it because—Merlin, this is bad—because everyone else was saying it too. But then I found out about my friend, and I’ve just been feeling horrible about all that. And I guess I wanted to make Harry feel like that too so I didn’t have to be the bad guy.”

“That’s not very kind, Ginny,” Luna said gently.

“I know, and I’m still angry with him anyway. I’m pretty sure I’m the one who turned it into a big deal, but I just don’t see why he cares so much. I don’t know why he didn’t just back off. He spent like a million galleons trying to prove he was just fine with her, and it doesn’t make any sense. All he had to do was do and say nothing, and I would have been stuck needing something else to fight him over. There are so many better things to have a stupid break-up fight about than who I’m friends with.” Ginny groaned. “Did I do this, Luna? Is it all me?”

Luna didn’t say anything for a minute, apparently giving Ginny’s question a good deal of thought. 

Ginny stared up at the leaves, trying to distract herself from the paralysing terror that Luna might not say what she wanted to hear. Luna was honest—not in a cruel way, but she wouldn’t simply tell Ginny whatever she wanted to hear if she knew it was a lie. And, as much as Ginny tried to ignore it, her mind had been whispering a cruel thought to her: that Ginny had been purposefully pitting Harry and Astoria against each other, selfish and jealous and desperate to be the centre of both Harry’s and Astoria’s attention and affection. Harry had figured it out and left her, and it was only a matter of time before Astoria did the same.

“I don’t think I can tell you that,” Luna said finally. 

“That’s not very helpful,” Ginny said.

“No, I suppose it isn’t.”

“I’m depending on you to solve all my problems for me, Luna.” Ginny allowed herself a small laugh, but it didn’t shake the aching in her gut. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

“Yes.” There wasn’t even the slightest hint of hesitation in Luna’s voice, and Ginny wished desperately that she could be even half as sure as Luna. “He’s not the person you need forgiveness from though, Ginny.”

Ginny looked down at the ferret that had now settled on her chest, sleeping soundly into a tight ball. “Do you think Astoria’s angry too then?” Astoria had been abundantly clear about not wanting to get wrapped up in this sort of drama, and Ginny had dragged her in anyway. 

“I meant you.”

“Oh.” 

Ginny looked back up at the leaves and watched a gentle breeze stirring them to life, scattering sunlight. Forgiving herself wasn’t something she actually knew how to do. She kept her guilt and shame buried deep inside, too deep for the gentle magic of a snoozing patronus or the company of her best friend to fully reach. 

If only she could pull the ugly parts of herself out like siphoning out memories into a pensieve. Wand to her chest, and out would come the red, angry threads of her temper, her callousness, the old insecurities Riddle had twisted for his own gain and the new ones he had carved deep in her bones. Maybe then she could face them, find a way to tame them into something she could actually control.

Whatever she did, she knew Luna was right. Ginny wanted Harry to do the work for her, to forgive her when she couldn’t do it herself. That strategy clearly wasn’t working, and Ginny didn’t want her happiness to depend on someone else. Somehow, she had to find a way to escape the grips of her own self-loathing. 

Ginny, Luna, and Rhianna had dinner outside on blankets, enjoying the warm summer air. Mum and Rhianna had made spaghetti bolognese, and Rhianna had adapted the recipe for Luna with the ingredients they’d picked up earlier. Noodle’s magic started to wear off as they finished eating, so the ferret made a quick round of goodbyes, curled up in Ginny’s lap, and slowly disappeared until all that was left was a vague, light feeling under Ginny’s skin.

After dinner, Luna and Rhianna enchanted balls for Ginny to dive after in a somewhat futile attempt to get a tiny bit more training in before the transfer window next week. Officially, there were trials where anyone could show off their skills and get a shot at a contract with a team, but realistically, most teams already had a shortlist of players they wanted. If no one wanted Ginny yet, it’d take a miracle to get their attention Monday. All she had to do was not make a fool of herself.

For all the anxiety next week brought though, her quidditch nerves focused her, dragging her another step further from the dark hole she’d buried herself in since Harry left. With each dive, she found a little more strength. Harry didn’t get to take quidditch from her. Ginny had until Monday to pull herself together, show up, and get herself a contract. And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

“I think it’s time to go home,” Luna said after a while. The vibrant colours of sunset were fading into the darkness of night now. 

Ginny caught the quaffle Rhianna had just flung and then landed, sweaty and slightly winded, in front of Luna. “Okay,” Ginny said. “Listen, Luna, thanks. Not just for quidditch, I mean. For everything. Talking to me about Harry. Dropping everything and coming all this way. I appreciate it.”

“I got to see you and Rhianna and Astoria and your mum, and I got to meet your lovely friend Noodle, and now I get to see my Daddy.”

Ginny flushed slightly at Luna calling Noodle hers, but she ignored it. “How long are you staying?”

“Oh, maybe a couple days. I am rather tired from the journey.”

“Will you let me know before you leave? So I can say goodbye?”

“Of course.”

They exchanged hugs and goodbyes, and then Luna vanished with a crack.

“Your Noodle, huh?” Rhianna said, grinning.

“Shut up,” Ginny grumbled as her face burned.

“I’m sure Astoria will send Noodle over again once she’s home safe from the muggle world.” 

“Are you going back home too?” Ginny was eager to change the subject, but it was a sincere question nonetheless.

“Up to you, really. You seem to be doing better, but if you want company still—”

Ginny shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Really.” Ginny took a slow breath. “Obviously, I’m really not okay in a bigger sense, but me and Luna talked about it. All this shit with Harry—” Deep breath. “I’m definitely not saying I’m okay with the stuff he said, especially about, er…”

“I know,” Rhianna said gently. 

Ginny nodded, relieved to skip the verbal gymnastics of trying to express the right level of outrage on Astoria’s behalf. “Well, I guess maybe he has a point about me being kind of a total bitch sometimes too.” Ginny folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Why was admitting faults so bloody hard? Everyone had them. “Kind of figure maybe I should stop yelling at other people just because I hate myself.”

“Eh, emotional maturity is overrated.”

“What?”

“It’s a joke, Ginny.” She sighed. “Look, I think that’s a great goal. For your sake. You yell because you hate yourself, and then you hate yourself because you yell. It sucks, and it’s hard to stop.”

“Didn’t realise you were such an expert on hating yourself.” As soon as she’d said it—sarcastic and callous and defensive—she realised how awful it must sound. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right. My mam’s a therapist, and I’m her gay, child soldier daughter. I can’t do anything self-destructive without her in my head, telling me how it’s a result of trauma and a maladaptive attempt to self-soothe or something.” Rhianna shook her head. “She’s great, don’t get me wrong.”

“Your mum’s a what?” Ginny had the somewhat vague idea that Ms. Owens helped people as a career, but she’d never considered the details.

“A therapist. Mind healer. It’s more of a muggle thing since wizards tend to just use magic to pretend our feelings don’t even exist, but she works with both. Noodle is therapy magic, you know. My mam taught Astoria. Anyway, I was just saying that I know it sucks, and I think it’s, I don’t know, brave? Is there a less patronising word?”

“I’m a Gryffindor. Brave is good.”

Rhianna laughed. “Okay. I think you’re incredibly brave for trying to stand up to Ginny Wealsey. I heard she yells a lot.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and flicked a weak knockback jinx at Rhianna. “I think the Hat put you in the wrong house. You’re too mean for Hufflepuff.”

“Would you like to hear my smothering, overly helpful Hufflepuff response instead?”

“Try me.”

“My mam’s a therapist, Ginny.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. “If you’re actually serious and willing to give it a shot, I think a therapist could help a lot, and my mam can find someone for you to talk to. Obviously, I’m always here too, but the shit you’ve gone through is so far beyond the normal, everyday stuff everyone deals with. You deserve more support than just what friends and family can give you. But I know you’re proud and stubborn, and I’m just relieved to hear you even admit that there’s a problem at all, so I am happy to take the win and not push or smother you at all.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t know. It sounds like utter shit, but everything I’ve tried has been utter shit too. Give me a Death Eater, and I can handle that, but hexing and shouting don’t seem to be working here, and I just keep getting people hurt.” Ginny sighed. “So if you’ve got a better idea, sure. Honestly, it sounds like absolute rubbish, and I hate it, and I don’t want to, but that’s more or less how I felt this morning when you vanished my fucking shirt off and made me get up.”

Rhianna’s face turned a deep scarlet almost immediately. “Sorry,” she muttered, avoiding Ginny’s eye.

Ginny laughed. “Oh, relax. It only got me up because I realised you absolutely would drag my arse to the shower and bathe and dress me yourself if you had to. I’d be mortified because I’m a grown woman who can’t even bathe herself, and then you’d be all _weird_ about it too.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you got me up. So while I can think of nothing less appealing than going and talking to someone about what a fucking bitch I am and how much I hate myself, you’re better at this shit than me. If you think it’s a good idea, sign me up.”

“I’ll talk to my mam when I get home.”

“Thanks.”

Rhianna smiled, and then she held out her arms for a hug Ginny eagerly accepted. “I love you, Ginny,” she said as she squeezed. “You’re going to be okay. Better than okay.”

“Thanks, Rhianna.”

Rhianna reassured Ginny a few more times, hugged her again, reminded her to reach out, and insisted that she’d keep checking in on Ginny over the next few days. With one last well wish for quidditch trials next week and yet another hug, Rhianna said goodbye and disappeared with a crack. 

It was the first night Ginny actually slept since Harry left, a small ball of silver curled up against her. Nothing had really changed. She still hadn’t spoken to Harry. She still felt broken and flawed in ways that felt far beyond her abilities to fix. And dark, angry self-loathing still tugged at the corners of her mind. But the tiniest sliver of hope had carved a path for the soft magic of Astoria’s patronus and the soothing memory of her friends’ company to hold it all at bay long enough for Ginny to sleep. Somehow, Ginny was going to figure out how to be okay.


	20. why don't you get a job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of bodily fluids (vomit), a lot of money discussion, tabloids

> Monday, 16 August 1999. Tornados quidditch stadium, Tutshill, England.

Ginny’s stomach fluttered nervously as she sat down with her tea beside a young wizard who was quickly becoming Ginny’s least favourite person. “Of course I’ve already had offers from several other teams,” he bragged to Ginny in an accent Ginny thought was probably German or Dutch or something like that. She was pretty sure he was attempting to flirt with her, and Ginny was pretty sure she wanted to hex him.

Instead, she ignored him, nodding along without interest while her eyes flitted about the stadium, quickly taking in as much as she could. She’d heard about quidditch trials, grasped desperately for every bit of information she could find, but she still felt wholly unprepared. So far, all she had been told was that they were all getting a brief orientation in a few minutes, so could they all please help themselves to some tea or coffee and take a seat. 

Ginny’s braggart companion, as irritating as he was, was proving to be a good shield against anyone actually interested in conversation distracting her from her purpose. Most of what Ginny knew about the inner workings of the quidditch trials were from Astoria’s vague childhood memories, when her cousin Briar had taken the two of them to watch. Orientation, drills and flying, interviews, lunch, more flying, and then by five o’clock, it would all be over. Either Ginny would have an offer from a team, and she’d spend the week in negotiations on the finer details, or she’d go home empty handed, back to her awful retail job. 

Ginny’s strategy was to spend orientation observing, looking for managers, choosing her targets. She had a shortlist of teams worth pursuing, and she stuck to her plan, ticking off each one in her head as she found the manager. But one manager was missing: Teresa Averford. The Harpies did need to hire a new chaser soon, so Ginny had gladly put them on her mental list as an entirely reasonable option to pursue, but she also knew she would have been looking for Averford no matter what her realistic prospects were. 

Ginny wanted to play quidditch, but she _really_ wanted to play for the Harpies. That thought had gotten her up out of bed every day since Rhianna had dragged Ginny out of her dark hole. She’d survived a miserable shift at work on Friday, humoured Ron and Hermione’s attempts to cheer her up over the weekend, and said a tearful goodbye to Luna yesterday morning before she resumed her search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Through all of it, she had only one thought: get a contract with the Harpies.

A short wizard Ginny didn’t recognise conjured a small stage, hopped up, and pointed his wand to his throat. A moment later, his voice boomed through the stadium, welcoming them all to the 1999 British and Irish Quidditch League Trials. He quickly explained how the day was supposed to go—nothing there Ginny didn’t already know—and then, suddenly, everyone was up. The chairs were vanished, and all of the hopefuls got a broom, a number, and a schedule. Ginny was quick and managed to get the number eight, which meant she was one of the first on the pitch.

Her nerves disappeared as soon as she was off the ground. This part was the easy part of the day. Ginny knew how to fly, and she knew she was good. Unfortunately, plenty of others here today were good too, including the obnoxious wizard she’d sat beside earlier, much to Ginny’s annoyance. As she raced around the pitch, wind whipping against her skin, important people scribbling notes on clipboards as they watched, every other worry and anxiety she’d fought through this summer fell away. All that mattered was quidditch.

The worst part of the day happened in the middle of the easy part: an awkward interview with a handful of staff from different teams, one on five while they all asked her questions that only sometimes felt relevant to quidditch. But she put on a relaxed, friendly face and breathed through each question as it came, reminding herself that she would be back on a broom as soon as she got out of this.

At one o’clock, everyone was rounded up for lunch, which Astoria had assured Ginny was the most important part of the entire day. Ginny had been tracking down managers and other players and staff all morning for this: her one chance to make sure they knew her name and knew she was serious and interested. 

Unfortunately, she still had yet to see Averford anywhere, and a horrible thought occurred to her: what if the Harpies had decided they didn’t need to see the trials at all this year? Officially, the trials were the only way to get on a team. Teams weren’t allowed to sign anyone who didn’t attend, and any team caught making offers to potential players before the official transfer window this week would be fined and penalised. But some teams treated it only as a formality and simply waited until today to actually offer a contract to players they’d already scouted.

Ginny reminded herself that her goal today was just to get _any_ offer. Even if the Harpies didn’t want her this year, being in the League gave her a huge leg up for trying to fly for them eventually. So she squared her jaw, took a deep breath, and sat down with a man she had identified as the manager for the Wigtown Wanderers. 

“Ah, Miss Weasley,” he said kindly. Good. He knew who she was. That was a step. “I was wondering when we’d finally see a Weasley here. Always thought it was a shame your brother—what was his name? Played for Gryffindor? Seeker, was it?”

“Charlie?” Ginny said.

“Charlie! That’s the one! Always thought it was a shame he didn’t play after school. What was it he did instead?”

“He works with dragons.” Ginny already found the small talk exhausting. She just wanted to be direct and say she wanted to fly professionally, and she knew the Wanderers’ chasers were all retiring in the next couple years. _Hire me please_ , she wanted to say.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s a bit more exciting than chasing snitches. How are you finding trials?”

“It’s good to fly properly.” Engaging in small talk was important, Ginny reminded herself. Flying was all well and good, but teams were looking for players who’d mesh well with the rest of the team off-pitch too. “My family have some good trees so we can fly around a bit without risking being seen by any muggles nearby, but it’s not the same. I missed it.”

He chuckled appreciatively. “Not nervous then?”

Ginny hesitated. How was she supposed to play this then? Should she be nervous? Should she be confident? “Well, the interview was terrifying,” Ginny admitted. 

“It always is. Of course, I imagine it’s a tad more terrifying when you’ve got a bit of a reputation for trouble.”

Ginny’s heart dropped. Of course he knew her name. She was all over the bloody _Daily Prophet_ every other day between the war, leading Dumbledore’s Army, and dating Harry. And, of course, _The Daily Prophet_ had just gotten word of their break-up and ran another rubbish story about her on Saturday. He was probably watching her like a comedy of errors, entertained by all the ways she tore up her own life.

“Bet those boys you went to school with regretted ever suggesting you couldn’t fly,” he said with amusement in his voice. “Think I would have snuck out to play quidditch too if someone had tried to tell me I couldn’t for no good reason.”

Oh. Quidditch. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, don’t worry about it.” He leaned over conspiratorially. “I’m not the only one with eyes on you, kid.”

Ginny looked at him, wide-eyed. Did that mean she had a real shot? Ginny tried to look cool, but she was sure her excitement and nerves were clear as day across her face.

“Wigtown’s a good place to live, you know,” he said.

“I love Scotland,” Ginny said quickly.

And, with the confidence that, at the very least, she probably was going to get an offer from the Wanderers, Ginny relaxed into the conversation. They were back on the pitch for the afternoon, with lighter drills so no one lost their lunch, and Ginny watched players being called away here and there again. It was hardly a surprise to her (but a welcome relief nonetheless) when she was called away to meet, officially, with the Wigtown Wanderers, including the manager with whom she’d had lunch, Captain Alastair Brodie, and a couple other members of the team staff. Not long after, she was pulled away again, this time by the Arrows, and then Portree half an hour later, followed immediately by the Magpies. 

At five o’clock sharp, the pitch was cleared again, and the hopefuls were all hurried into seats for another quick announcement from the short wizard who started the day. Everyone was thanked for their participation, and, with little fanfare, he announced that everyone whose chair was now on fire (several people shrieked as flames ignited beneath them) had not been successful. Those on fire should all simply hope desperately to be called back next week in case any teams still had spots to fill in the lightning round of contracts that would happen.

Everyone else was handed a piece of parchment which showed them which teams had made offers, and they were to make arrangements to meet and negotiate during the week, and all contracts must be signed by five o’clock Friday. That was it, and he left Ginny and the small handful of remaining players to it.

Ginny looked down at the parchment in her hand. Arrows, Magpies, Wanderers, Portree—Ginny audibly gasped— _Harpies_. Ginny quickly scrambled to make her arrangements with the other four teams, careful to keep all of her meetings to Tuesday and Wednesday since Astoria was off Thursday, and then _finally_ she found the woman she’d been searching for all day: Teresa Averford.

“Miss Ginny Weasley,” Averford said smoothly, extending her hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you.” Ginny had seen pictures of the woman and read interviews with her, but they did little justice to the real thing. Teresa Averford was the sort of woman who looked like she could probably crush the air out of your lungs with nothing more than a calm blink of her eyes. She might have already done so to Ginny.

“Ms. Averford,” Ginny spluttered, feeling entirely sure that she had never given anyone a more pathetic handshake than the one she was giving Teresa fucking Averford now. Merlin, shaking Teresa Averford’s hand—her strong, firm grasp and her warm, soft skin—Ginny’s heartbeat sputtered even worse than her speech.

“I have been watching your career with great interest.” Teresa Averford was _watching her career?_ Ginny was pretty sure she was ready to do anything this woman asked her. “Excellent flying today. I was pleased to see that recent events in your personal life didn’t seem to weigh you down in the slightest.” 

Ginny had the sudden urge to get down on her knees and swear to Averford that Harry meant nothing to her, but she held her tongue, sure that grovelling wouldn’t impress the woman. 

“I thought it best to leave you to it today,” she continued, “but I do want to make it incredibly clear, Miss Weasley, that I fully intend for you to sign a contract with the Harpies on Friday. You will be an integral part of the team, and I will be greatly disappointed if you choose to go with one of the many other teams bold enough to ask that you join them instead.” Even if Ginny hadn’t already been desperate to play for the Harpies, she was sure she would have changed her mind immediately just to avoid disappointing this woman. “Wednesday, three o’clock?”

Ginny was thrown by the abrupt change of subject and stuttered for a moment before managing a quick, “Yes. I’m available then.” Ginny suspected Averford had somehow gathered when her other meetings were. It seemed like something this woman she barely knew would do.

“I will send for you personally. I believe you still live with your family in Ottery St. Catchpole?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Was ma’am too formal? Too old? Ginny felt flustered and couldn’t seem to find her usual confidence. 

“Perfect. I look forward to it.” Then she shook Ginny’s hand again, and Ginny melted into the grass.

It took a good ten minutes after Averford left before Ginny regained her senses and managed to apparate home, still clutching the piece of parchment that assured her that the Holyhead Harpies did, in fact, want her. As did four other teams, which was almost half the League, but Ginny couldn’t find it within herself to care. The Holyhead Harpies wanted her. Teresa Averford shook her hand. _The Holyhead Harpies wanted her._

Ginny met with all five teams over the next two days, each time coming home with a stack of parchment full of all the details of each team’s offer. On top of all the dizzying numbers and various other benefits each team offered, they all gave her brief tours of the stadium, training grounds, and other amenities. 

Ginny’s first meeting was with the Magpies, who made it abundantly clear that being the most successful team in the league came with plenty of perks: a sprawling estate overlooking the east coast of Scotland where players lived for free, top of the line equipment and coaching, and connections with the rich and powerful across wizarding society. Ginny was determined not to care about that last bit, but Myron Wagtail, lead singer of The Weird Sisters, was just casually hanging out at the Magpies estate with a couple of her would-be teammates. He was even sexier in person than in the posters on Ginny’s walls, and he unfairly wasn’t even wearing a shirt, leaving Ginny’s imagination far too much to work with. 

It was hard to follow up the richest team in the league. None of the other teams happened to have shirtless rockstars, for example, but they were all eager to impress, which was more than a little disorienting for Ginny. The closest she’d come to anything like it was all second hand, when people tried to impress Harry. But now all these people were trying to impress _her_ —and not just because she was famous Harry Potter’s (now ex) girlfriend. 

Well, Portree might actually have been trying to sign Harry Potter’s girlfriend, Ginny decided partway through a tour of their stadium. Portree’s manager, apparently convinced their break-up was only temporary, assured her that there were regular Portkeys to and from London. Ginny just nodded along and reminded herself there were plenty of good people in London she _hadn’t_ just broken up with.

After the awkwardness of Portree, Ginny found herself relieved to go to Wigtown. Ginny had never much cared for the Wanderers, whose meat cleaver logo she’d always found a bit off-putting. But where the Magpies and Portree had wealth and a long history of good records, the Wanderers, while solidly on the poorer side of teams, felt sweet and homely. The team had, after all, started with just one family, and Ginny got the sense the team still very much considered themselves family. It reminded her of home.

The Arrows though had the coolest stadium by far. It was plain as day in the middle of the flat expanse of Lincolnshire. They let Ginny fly around, and it reminded her of flying at Hogwarts, the only other place she knew of in all of Britain where you could fly as high as you want without relying on trees and cliffs to hide you from view of Muggles. “Our stadium has the most powerful muggle repellant charms and illusions in all of Europe,” their manager boasted. “Nothing comes close to flying out in the open like this. It’s freedom.” Ginny could see the appeal and was looking forward to matches there, even if they weren’t home games.

But none of the teams could come close to the Harpies. Ginny knew she should give them all a fair shot, and she was determined to make her final decision on more than just her childhood love of the Harpies, but it was hard to deny how much she loved the team. All they had to do was exist to turn Ginny into a stuttering, star-struck mess. Getting double-teamed by Teresa Averford and _the_ Gwenog Jones, Captain of The Holyhead Harpies and Ginny’s all-time favourite quidditch player, had to be illegal. Somehow though, Ginny survived.

After dinner Wednesday night, she sat down with her parents and the five contracts she’d been given to pour through the details and make sense of them all. She’d never really paid that close attention to how exactly quidditch players were paid, and she was now discovering it was complicated and confusing. There was her weekly base pay, ranging from 1,175 galleons a week with the Harpies, all the way up to 2,330 galleons a week with the Magpies. But then there were tons of other numbers: loyalty bonuses if she stayed with the team long enough, bonuses for each goal scored and each match played, end-of-season bonuses depending on the team’s success, promises of increased pay over consecutive seasons, and bonuses for matches in things like the European Cup.

The stacks of contracts were slowly joined by stacks of notes they’d made. Ginny knew she wanted to play for the Harpies more than anything, but she wanted to be sure she knew what she was turning down for it. The Magpies were offering a _lot_ of money, and while she didn’t care about being able to afford fancy robes or a big estate, that was a lot more money she could donate to people who needed it. Plenty of rich quidditch players made regular donations to causes they cared about, after all.

Even after they’d gone through every contract, detailing all of the bonuses and other perks each team was offering, Ginny couldn’t figure out what offer was actually the best. How was she to know how many matches she’d start or how many goals she’d score? Then there was housing. The Magpies, Portree, and the Arrows all included free housing for players, while the Harpies had a good relationship with a local landlord who offered steep discounts for players. The Wanderers had a team house, but it was currently full, so Ginny would need to find a place to live in or near Wigtown. 

And it wasn’t just the money. Every team had ties to the local economy or culture in some way and offered various additional benefits ranging from free food from the Wanderers’ butchery to archery lessons with the Arrows, from free concert tickets to tutors to help her learn Welsh. It was all far too overwhelming, and Ginny couldn’t believe she really was expected to think everything through and make the right decision by Friday. Sure, she was probably going to go with her gut, but how was someone like Astoria or Hermione, who were both far more inclined than Ginny to carefully weigh all options, supposed to handle this process? 

Probably by having researched all the various bonuses and such and every single team in the league ages before, Ginny told herself. She and Astoria had talked about her options loads, after all, up until Ginny started getting too anxious to want to talk about it. At least some of the bonuses in her contract weren’t completely new to Ginny, but she’d never given them much thought. Ginny’s strategy for things that scared her was to charge right in, and when she couldn’t do that, she preferred to just ignore it until she actually could. 

So now she was stuck with a massive decision to make that would impact her entire future, and her gut was screaming Harpies, but her gut’s track record lately had been pretty atrocious. She didn’t want to rely on it, but her parents didn’t know enough about the ins and outs of quidditch contracts to tell her much except that every team was offering her more than enough to live comfortably on. Rationally, Ginny thought the Harpies offer looked pretty good when you considered the pay increases and loyalty bonuses if she stuck with them, even if they were offering the lowest starting pay of any team, but she was sure she only thought that because she _wanted_ theirs to be the best offer.

“I think I’ll ask Astoria what she thinks when she’s over tomorrow,” Ginny told her parents Wednesday night, after hours of debating her options. “Just to be sure.” 

Her parents were supportive of the Harpies and thought she should go with them, but Ginny didn’t trust that they were being as objective as she wanted. She was the impulsive, go-with-her gut sort, and, given what a mess her gut had already made of her life, she wanted to give calm reason a shot, especially when she still had a full day left to think about it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the average salary in 1999 for Premiere League players (football/soccer) was the equivalent of about 1,830 galleons/week, or £9,148/week. Which is a lot. Even in 2020.


	21. The ice we skate is getting pretty thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: hospital (nothing hospital-y though), brief mentions of war/conflict/violence,

> Thursday, 19 August 1999. St. Mungo’s. 3pm.

Ginny was so visibly shaking that the receptionist had worriedly asked Ginny if she was okay. Yep. Fine. Great. Fantastic. Just an ordinary Thursday. Just the day that was going down in history books as The Day Astoria Met the Weasleys. Or, well, Ginny’s parents at least. 

Ginny, too impatient to wait, had offered to meet Astoria at work as soon as Astoria finished. Ginny had, of course, arrived early and worked herself into a shaking, nervous wreck as she paced the main lobby, waiting for Astoria.

The doors opened for what was surely the seven hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes, and Astoria and Healer Shah finally walked through, in the midst of what appeared to be a serious conversation. Astoria caught Ginny’s eye and smiled, and Ginny felt her racing heart slow a little. Astoria looked back at Shah, face serious again, nodding along to whatever Shah was saying. 

Finally, Shah put her hand on Astoria’s upper arm, bowed her head, and said one last thing to Astoria. Then she dropped her hand, twitched her wand to clear the privacy charm, and looked over at Ginny.

“She’s all yours, Miss Weasley,” Shah said kindly. Ginny would have been surprised Shah knew her name, but, well, her hair tended to give her away. “Enjoy dinner, Astoria.” 

“Thank you,” Astoria said politely. 

Then Shah disappeared back through the doors into the rest of the hospital. As soon as the doors closed, Astoria flung her arms around Ginny in a tight hug.

“Do you want to go by your house to change?” Ginny asked when she let go. “That doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Astoria looked down at herself. “It’s really not.” She looked back up at Ginny. “But it’s an effective visual cue that says Probably Not a Murderer, so I think it’ll make for a good first impression. Are they home?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Let’s get it over with then.” Astoria held up her hand.

Ginny slipped her hand into Astoria’s, took a deep breath, and apparated them both to the Burrow. Ginny could feel Astoria’s pulse pounding in her fingers, so Ginny held on and led Astoria into the lion’s den.

Her parents were sitting in the kitchen, apparently waiting for them, and they were on their feet almost immediately. 

“Er, this is my friend Astoria,” Ginny announced awkwardly. Why hadn’t she thought this through? How was she supposed to introduce Astoria? How did anyone introduce anyone? Merlin, could this just be over already?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Wealsey,” Astoria said, not a hint of her pounding heart in her voice. 

Dad quickly stepped forward and held out his hand, smiling. “Please, Arthur is fine.” 

Astoria shook his hand and smiled back. “Thank you, but I think I’m more comfortable with Mr. Weasley, if that’s okay.”

“We’re just so happy to finally meet you, dear,” Mum said. And then she—bloody hell, she _hugged_ Astoria. To Astoria’s credit, she gave no indication that this was at all strange or unwelcome or unexpected in the least. “Would you like some tea?” Mum asked when she let go. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got some green tea too.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Black tea is fine.” 

“Well, I’ll just put on the kettle then.”

As Mum fussed about making tea, the rest of them sat down at the table. Ginny sat right next to Astoria and put a hand on her knee under the table, hoping to soothe Astoria. Astoria didn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable, but Ginny knew Astoria was good at hiding her discomfort and anxieties. 

“So you’re a Healer?” Dad asked. 

“In training,” Astoria said. “At St. Mungo’s during the summers, and with Madam Pomfrey while I’m at school. It’s several years to become a fully fledged Healer.”

“Healer Shah has been personally training her,” Ginny added. “She even offered to take Astoria on without any O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s when she saw how good of a healer Astoria was at the Battle of Hogwarts.” Astoria, of course, had decided she wanted to get her N.E.W.T.s anyway in case she ever wanted to try a different career. 

“There’s a Healer shortage right now,” Astoria said, brushing away Ginny’s compliment. “We’re usually understaffed at St. Mungo’s.”

“Yes, I’ve heard it’s been rough the past several years,” Dad said. “What sort of Healing do you want to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Astoria said. “Healer Shah thinks I should focus on something dealing with Dark magic. It’s a tough branch of Healing, so it’s always in demand, and she says once I’m trained enough, I could go help in other countries experiencing war or spikes in Dark magic.” 

“Is that what you want?”

Astoria shrugged. “Someone has to do it. It’s not like Dark wizards are going to stop hurting people if we don’t have Healers trained for it.”

“Our son Ron said the same thing when he decided to become an Auror. I'm not sure it was the best decision for him, at least long-term. You kids have all been through too much already. You don’t need to spend your whole adult lives chasing evil too. It’s okay to pick something you enjoy, not just what you think the world needs.”

Ginny looked at Astoria, but her face was unreadable. Polite, respectful, emotionless. 

“Here we are,” Mum said as she set down four cups of tea and sat down next to Dad. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Astoria said again. 

“Milk? Sugar?” 

“No milk. Just one sugar.” 

“Ginny says you live with the Owens now?” Mum said as she did the milk and sugar for everyone. She already knew how Ginny and Dad took their tea. 

“Yes, Ms. Owens took me in after the war.”

“They live in muggle London,” Ginny said. “They’ve got all sorts of muggle things in their house, too.”

“Like a toaster,” Astoria laughed. “Merlin, I love toasters. I don’t know how I ever survived without one.”

Dad looked at Astoria like she’d just told him Christmas had come early this year. “Oh, do you know how they work?” he said. “I’ve always wanted to try a toaster!”

“Well, they’ve got these neat little pockets for the bread, and then they use electricity to heat up metal coils on the sides that give a nice, even toasting to the bread. Once it’s done, it just pops up, perfectly toasted.”

“Fascinating! Muggles are ingenious.”

“Arthur—” Mum said warningly. 

“Astoria knows all about muggles,” Ginny said. “She has a muggle job even.”

Astoria shot her a serious look. 

“Do you now?” Dad asked. “I thought you were working at St. Mungo’s.”

“I am,” Astoria said. 

“She has two jobs,” Ginny said proudly. “That’s why she’s always so busy.”

“St. Mungo’s doesn’t pay much since I’m still in training. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you didn't mention to anyone else that I have a muggle job.” Astoria grimaced. “I would really rather not find out how certain people might react. I can protect myself just fine, but my coworkers can’t.”

“Sorry,” Ginny said. “I forgot.”

Astoria shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“We won’t mention it, dear,” Mum said. 

“Thanks.”

Then Dad, not to be dissuaded, launched into a cheerful list of questions about the muggle world, all of which Astoria answered politely and patiently. Mum tried to get him to stop, but Astoria said she didn’t mind, and he pressed on. 

Eventually though, Ginny grew tired of her father monopolising Astoria. “We’re going to go to my room,” Ginny announced, just as Astoria had finished explaining how the underground train system worked. She stood up and pulled Astoria’s arm. 

“It was lovely meeting you, Astoria,” Mum said. 

“And the same to both of you,” Astoria said as Ginny pulled her out of her chair. “Thank you again for the tea.” Merlin, she was so exhaustingly polite. 

Ginny pulled Astoria up the stairs, pushed her into her bedroom, and closed the door. “Sorry about my dad,” Ginny said. “Did you want to change? I have clothes.” Ginny wanted to at least let Astoria get out of that uncomfortable uniform before springing the news on her. She could even tell Astoria by giving her Harpies clothes to wear. _Now you’re a fan of me_ , she could tease.

“Your dad was fine,” Astoria said. “Your parents are both lovely.” She smiled and started pulling her uniform off. 

“They’re a right pain is what they are.” Ginny flicked her wand to lock the door. “As if you really needed to be quizzed on every detail of the muggle world.” 

“I didn’t mind. Easier than Shah’s quizzing at least.”

“Well, I think you passed.” Ginny grabbed clean clothes for Astoria and sat down on the foot of her bed. 

“Did I?” Astoria grinned as she shed one last layer, down to just the plain sleeveless shirt and light shorts she wore underneath. Ginny’s mind suddenly veered off track, remembering the last time she’d seen Astoria in that and the way Astoria had felt, squirming and giggling from the tickling charm—

“The Harpies offered me a contract,” Ginny blurted out, holding up the Harpies clothes she’d grabbed for Astoria. 

Astoria froze. Her eyes went wide. Then, suddenly, she screamed and launched herself at Ginny, tackling her backwards onto the bed. A near-incomprehensible stream of congratulations, obscenities, and glee poured from Astoria’s mouth. Astoria hugged her and shook her shoulders and jumped and jittered and laughed with all of the elation Ginny had been feeling. Ginny’s whole body felt electric with excitement, as if Astoria was sending congratulatory jolts through her with every touch. Merlin, it had been so worth waiting to tell her just for this.

Someone knocked frantically on the door. “Are you girls okay?” Mum asked through the door, sounding panicked. 

Astoria tensed and scrambled off Ginny. 

“Fine, Mum,” Ginny called toward the door. “Harpies!”

“Oh, yes,” Mum said. “Sorry, dear.” Then her footsteps carried her away. 

“I might have gotten carried away, sorry,” Astoria said, face red. She grabbed the clothes Ginny took out and, facing away from Ginny, quickly finished changing. “Guess I’m officially a Harpies fan now.” She turned back and smiled at Ginny. 

“You better be,” Ginny said as she sat back up. “I’m going to crush the Arrows, and you’re going to like it.”

Astoria rolled her eyes and laughed. “So did you already sign your contract then?” She gave her wand a light swish. Her uniform folded itself neatly and disappeared into her bag. Show off. 

“No, I, er, was actually going to ask you about it.” Ginny’s face felt hot. “I don’t really know what’s a good offer or not. It’s all more money than I’ve ever had, but I don’t know if any of them are actually good offers.”

“Who else offered?”

Ginny was pretty sure her entire face would melt off. “Portree. Magpies. Wanderers. The, er, Arrows.” Ginny all but whispered the last one. 

“Five teams, Ginny? You got offers from five teams, and you didn’t bloody lead with that?”

“No?” Admittedly, it probably had been stupid not to mention that first, but Ginny’s heart was already set on the Harpies. She’d dreamed of playing for them her whole life, and now she had the chance to finally do it. “I figured I can only play for one team anyway.”

“And you want to play for the Harpies.”

“You think I’m wrong.”

“What on earth gave you that idea? If you want to play for the Harpies—”

“What would you do?”

“I’d have to see the contracts.”

“They’re downstairs.” Ginny unlocked the door and led Astoria back downstairs and into the living room. The contracts and their notes were all on the coffee table where they had left them last night.

Astoria picked them up and sat down on the sofa. One by one, she read through them, face hard and serious. Ginny sat on her feet on the other end of the sofa, fidgeting nervously, watching Astoria’s expression. The numbers on the contracts scared Ginny. They were all offering more money than she’d ever seen in her life, and then there were all the other details to consider.

Finally, Astoria set everything back down on the table. “What do you want my opinion on?” she said.

“Er, everything?” Ginny said. “I don't know. Obviously I want to play for the Harpies, but I don’t know if that’s actually the best decision.”

Astoria furrowed her brow, looking at Ginny carefully. “You’re worried you’re making a mistake if you don’t take the offer with the biggest number on it.”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know.”

“If you want my advice, Ginny—”

“I do.”

“—you can wipe your bloody arse with that offer from the Magpies. They’re only offering the most money because they’re the richest team in the league right now. They already have good, young chasers, so they’d just have you sitting around warming benches, so you’ll never see half those bonuses anyway. All they care about is making sure they don’t have to face off against you. They can shove their galleons up their arse.”

Ginny laughed with relief. “I was worried you might tell me to be greedy.”

“Oh, I’m not done. Be greedy, Ginny. You want to play for the Harpies? Good, because I bet they’re just desperate to hire you and set a precedent for their new academy. They want first dibs on every girl who ever plays at Hogwarts, so they want to be sure every girl dreams of playing for them the same way you’ve dreamed of playing for them. Sponsoring our league to turn it into an academy, giving me a scholarship, hiring you—you’re a key piece of their long-term strategy. Ask them for more money. Remind them you have other offers. Make them fight for you.”

“Is _that_ why you told Rhianna to spend so much on books for the gay society?”

Astoria grinned. “Teresa Averford paid me a personal visit at work about that.”

“Merlin’s pants.” Ginny was sure she would have shit herself if Averford had showed up at _her_ work. “She’s terrifying.”

“Oh, Shah is much, much worse. Poor Averford didn’t stand a chance. Shah wouldn’t let her near me.”

“Was Averford angry then?”

“Oh, no, not at all. After Shah kicked her out, she just came to the bloody house at ten at night instead so she could corner me and tell me that the Harpies took my privacy very seriously, but if and when it gets out, I am under no condition to field any questions from journalists. She wants The Harpies to handle it.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “You’ll be pleased to know your new manager is very concerned about the well-being of gay teenagers.”

“She thinks you’re gay?”

“Of course she does. That receipt practically screamed ‘I feast on vagina.’”

“Merlin, please don’t scream that.”

“Should I have used a euphemism? Honestly, that’s already almost a euphemism, since the vagina is actually just the canal, and most of the feasting is—”

“Bloody hell, Astoria.”

Astoria grinned. “I’m a Healer, Ginny. I like to use the right words for all parts of the body.”

“What are these then?” Ginny flipped her off.

“You’re holding up the second and third digits of your right hand. Surprisingly, they don’t appear to be injured in any way. Decided to dodge bludgers this time? I thought you were a Gryffindor.”

Ginny kicked Astoria beneath her ribs. Astoria, clearly expecting it, grabbed Ginny’s foot and pulled her across the sofa. Ginny swung her other foot toward Astoria’s face, but Astoria ducked, so Ginny dropped her leg across the back of Astoria‘s neck and pushed her down.

It devolved pretty quickly from there, neither one of them fighting particularly hard. Eventually, they stumbled, still fighting, out of the house, grabbed brooms, and flew around under the trees. Ginny had spent most of the summer in a constant stream of anxiety, and she finally felt like she had nothing to worry about. She was going to play for the Holyhead Harpies. Her parents were on her side. And Astoria was doing loop-de-loops in the Weasleys’ backyard.

They attempted a game of one on one for a bit, though neither of them were actually keeping score. It wasn’t entirely fair, seeing as Astoria was usually a beater, and they weren’t really following the rules, anyway. Wands out, blagging, cobbing, haversacking—it might as well have been a competition to see who could commit the most fouls.

Astoria made yet another valiant effort to steal the quaffle, one arm wedged between the quaffle and Ginny’s chest, and the other tickling Ginny’s side to loosen her grip. Ginny, not one to give up that easily (or legally), bit down hard on the arm trying to pull the quaffle away. Astoria shrieked, laughing, but didn’t let go. Ginny’s hold on the quaffle loosened. Desperate times. Ginny leaned forward and licked Astoria’s face. Astoria jerked her face away with another shriek, and Ginny managed to pull the quaffle back away from her.

“You know,” someone else said, “I’m pretty sure that’s a foul, Ginny.” Ginny looked down and froze. George was leaning against one of the trees, arms crossed, grinning up at them. 

“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, voice high, heart pounding, cheeks burning. She flew over and landed in front of him, praying that he wasn’t going to tease her for the rest of her life for licking Astoria. 

“Thanks, Weasley,” Astoria said as she grabbed the quaffle from Ginny. She flew off, flung it into the hoop, and then landed next to Ginny. “I win.”

“Dinner,” George said casually. “I told mum I’d come by to help.”

Ginny frowned. “Help? What does she need help with? It’s just din—” Ginny stopped as a horrible thought occurred to her. 

“Babysitting Ron, of course. I suppose she thinks Audrey can babysit Percy, and Bill and Charlie can—”

“Bill and Charlie?” Ginny practically screamed. “They don’t even live in England!” She looked at Astoria, mortified, trying to figure out how to get Astoria out of this. Had her mother really invited all her brothers over for dinner just to meet Astoria? “Astoria, I had _no_ idea—”

“It’s fine,” Astoria said calmly. Leave it to Astoria to take even this in stride. 

“No, it’s not. I’m going to go talk to her. This is—”

Astoria grabbed her arm. “Relax, Ginny.” 

“Mum cannot seriously just spring the whole bloody family on you without even—”

“Ginny, trust me. It’s fine.” 

Ginny looked at her stupidly calm, slightly pleading face and sighed. “Fine, but if any of them are arseholes to you, we’re both leaving.”

Astoria let go of Ginny’s arm and looked at George. “Sorry. Hi. I’m Astoria, Ginny’s friend.” She held out her hand.

“George,” he said. He shook her hand and grinned. “Don’t worry; you’ll fit in here. We’ve got a lot of green grass already.” He nodded to the patches of grass around them. 

“Oh, think my name’s funny, do you? Let me guess, next up you’re going to grab a book and read me a story-a?” 

“Damn,” George laughed. “That was my next one.”

Astoria grinned. “Eleri beat you to both of them, sorry.” 

“Well, my sister clearly thinks you’re an ice lolly, so that opens the door to—”

“George!” Ginny said, cheeks burning again.

“What?” George said, grinning wickedly. “Not cool with ice lolly humour, Gin?” 

Ginny groaned. 

“I think Ginny might be the ice lolly, actually, with that stick up her arse,” Astoria teased. 

“Astoria!” Ginny shrieked, shoving her shoulder hard. Astoria had the same awful grin on her face as George. Traitor. To think that Ginny had actually felt bad for her a moment ago.

“Well, that’s not very ice, Ginny,” George said. 

“Yeah, chill out, Ginny,” Astoria said.

“It’s snow use, Astoria.”

“C’mon, Ginny, we’re just breaking the ice.”

Ginny looked back and forth between the two of them. “Okay, what’s going on with you two? You planned this somehow.” It wasn’t like she wanted them to be awkward or even unpleasant with each other, but neither of them had ever once expressed even the slightest fondness for each other. Fred and George had been pretty terrible to Astoria while they were still at school, and Astoria usually avoided talking about George, a sure sign that she didn’t have anything nice to say.

“Was I supposed to try to duel your friend?” George said. “I know some good hexes.”

“You once set a _firework_ off in her face,” Ginny said.

George’s cheeks went slightly pink. “Yeah, er, sorry about that one,” he said to Astoria. 

“It’s fine,” Astoria said. Then she grabbed Ginny’s arm and pulled her aside. “Lay off him, okay?” Astoria said quietly. “Eleri’s already talked to him.”

Ginny frowned. “You don’t have to be okay with him, Astoria,” she said. “I know how horrible he was to you at school. My parents shouldn’t have—”

“If I want an apology from your brother, I’ll ask for it later, okay? Right now, I just want to forget about all that and hang out with you. And maybe pretend for one night that there wasn’t a stupid war that got in the way of who I could and couldn’t be friends with.”

“Are you sure?”

Astoria sighed loudly, threw up her arms and looked around. “Look, I’ll… I’ll say the word ‘squash’ if I’m uncomfortable and want an out, okay? Will that make you feel better?”

“Squash?”

“I don’t know. It’s versatile, innocuous, and easy enough to avoid when I don’t mean it. You can use it too. I think you’re more stressed about all this than I am.”

“Are you actually fine, or are you acting?”

“I’ll admit that I was terrified meeting your parents earlier, but I was also still on edge from work. I’m fine now, and I’m seriously not worried about meeting all your brothers. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

Ginny sighed. “Okay. But you have to actually say it, okay? If you’re uncomfortable.”

Astoria nodded.

With a mountain of dread building inside her, Ginny gave in. She’d just have to keep a close watch over Astoria and hope dinner didn’t drag on. George might have been okay, but he was always one of the most laidback of her brothers. But Ron? Percy? Charlie? Bill? Ginny told herself that, at the very least, they would at least get it all over with. She’d just have to make it abundantly clear that they could either be nice to Astoria or leave. 


	22. While his inner life ticked on like an unexploded bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: alcohol use, drunkenness, internalised homophobia, self-hate, mental health issues, mention of bodily fluids (vomit)

They chatted with George for a few more minutes. George congratulated Ginny on choosing the Harpies and made several terrible Harpy puns with Astoria. Then, Astoria dragged Ginny back to her room and wandered around, pointing at things she’d never seen and asking Ginny about them. Astoria’s parents had never let her listen to The Weird Sisters, so they passed plenty of time as Ginny played her favourite songs for Astoria. 

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Astoria jumped up before Ginny could react. “Got it,” she said. She cracked the door open for a moment, nodded, and then quickly shut it. “Okay, Ginny. Trust me?” She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Ginny, grinning.

“What?” Ginny said.

“Do you trust me?”

“What’s going on?”

“Trust me, Ginny. It’s all good.”

Ginny looked between Astoria and the door. Who had she been talking to? “Fine,” Ginny sighed. “Yes, of course I trust you.”

“Great.” Then Astoria flicked her wrist, and the world went dark and silent. 

A moment later, Astoria’s hands were on Ginny’s arms, pulling her to her feet. Astoria led her out of the room and slowly, carefully down the stairs. Ginny followed her lead outside, wondering what on earth was going on. 

Astoria stopped, and Ginny’s vision and hearing came back suddenly. For a moment, Ginny was too dizzy to process anything. She blinked several times, and Astoria’s face slowly came into focus in front of her. Astoria had her hands on the side of Ginny’s face, blocking Ginny’s peripheral vision. She could hear whispering behind herself. 

“Ready?” Astoria asked, grinning. When Ginny nodded, Astoria dropped her hands and gently spun Ginny around. 

“SURPRISE!” everyone else shouted, sitting around a long table. The backyard had been decked out with green and gold—garlands, sparklers, floating lanterns, some sort of enchanted birds fluttering around. Above the table, “CONGRATULATIONS!” was twinkling like a constellation, announcing the real reason Ginny’s whole family were gathered in her backyard. The little shits had planned Ginny a surprise party—and tasked Astoria with keeping Ginny distracted. 

Astoria slunk away to let everyone say their congratulations to Ginny, but George grabbed her and pushed her back next to Ginny. “Surprise, Greengrass,” he said with a grin. He pointed to the constellation, and more twinkling words appeared, floating higher to make room for the complete message:

CONGRATULATIONS!  
Astoria and Ginny   
The New Harpies

“What?” Astoria’s eyes went wide, and she began stammering. “No, I’m not—Ginny—you can’t—this isn’t—” Astoria squirmed, trying to get away, but Ginny caught her hand and squeezed. 

“Did my family trick you into helping with your own surprise party?” Ginny laughed. No wonder she’d been so unfazed—she must have already known she was meeting the whole family tonight, even if they’d skipped over the exact reasons. Her family had to have been planning this for ages for even Charlie and Bill to have made arrangements to come back to England.

Astoria looked like she very much wanted to disappear into the ground. Ginny might have worried, but it was the same look of horror she’d had when McGonagall had insisted on including Astoria in the Award for Special Services to the School that all of Dumbledore’s Army had been granted. Astoria was just embarrassed. 

“I can’t,” Astoria said. “Squash.” She pulled her hand free of Ginny’s and disappeared back into the house. Okay, so maybe Ginny misjudged. 

“Is she okay?” George asked.

Ginny ignored him and went after Astoria. 

“Astoria?” Ginny said when she caught up to her midway up the stairs.

“I just need a minute,” Astoria said, voice shaky. She continued up the stairs and walked into Ginny’s room. 

“I can tell them to change it,” Ginny said as she followed her in.

Astoria sat down on Ginny’s bed and buried her face in her hands. “Please just go back to your party, Ginny.” 

Ginny knelt down in front of her. “I’m hanging out with you today.” Ginny pulled at Astoria’s hands, trying to actually look at her properly. Astoria resisted, but just Ginny pulled harder. 

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Astoria gave in and let her hands fall from her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there were smeared tears running down her cheeks. “Please.” Astoria wiped at her eyes. Ginny had never seen her cry before. 

She got up from the floor, sat herself next to Astoria, and hugged her as tight as she could. Astoria stiffened at first, but then she leaned into Ginny and cried into her shoulder wordlessly. Ginny didn’t really know or understand what exactly had upset her, but she doubted Astoria would want to talk about it right now. Just letting her cry seemed like the best Ginny could do, so that’s what she did.

Then, after a couple minutes, Astoria stopped crying abruptly and straightened up. “Sorry,” she said. Sniff. “I’m okay. Just overwhelmed.” Another sniff. “Thanks, Ginny.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Ginny said gently, still holding on to her. 

“Can you give me five minutes? I promise I’ll be back down. I just want to catch my breath.”

Ginny looked at her, considering, and sighed. “Okay.” She squeezed Astoria’s hand once and then left her. She could come back if Astoria didn’t come out. 

Hermione was waiting at the foot of the stairs. “Is she okay?” she asked Ginny. 

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Overwhelmed, that’s all.”

Hermione nodded as they walked back out. “That makes sense. She doesn’t really like having lots of attention, does she?”

Ginny wasn’t sure she agreed with Hermione’s assessment (Astoria always seemed to demand attention any time she so much as walked into a room, after all), but she didn’t bother arguing. 

Outside, the celebratory atmosphere had vanished. Off to the side, Bill and Mum were arguing. Dad and Charlie seemed to be trying to keep everyone else out of it, but Ron ducked under Dad’s arm and marched over. Ginny could already guess what they were arguing about, and Ron getting involved was only going to make it worse.

“Stay out of it, Ginny,” Charlie said before she could reach them. He put himself between Ginny and the argument and steered her away. 

“Get off me,” Ginny said. She pulled herself free, but he caught her around the waist before she could get anywhere.

“What are they arguing about?” Hermione asked.

“If Bill and Ron have a problem with Astoria,” Ginny said, pulling her wand out so she could get Charlie off her, “they can take it up with me.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Put your wand down, Ginny. Mum’s not going to let you listen to their argument anyway.” Unfortunately, he had a point. 

“Ron doesn’t have a problem with Astoria,” Hermione said quietly.

“Of course he does,” Ginny said as she lowered her wand. “He and Harry both think just because she—”

“No,” Hermione said, “this was Ron’s idea.” Hermione pointed to the twinkling letters congratulating Ginny and Astoria. “Well, not the whole party, but he told your mum we should include Astoria.”

Ginny frowned. That made no sense, but she couldn’t see why Hermione would make it up either. “What’s he playing at then? Reckon he can spy on her and find some excuse to send her to Azkaban?”

Hermione sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you. He doesn’t have a problem with Astoria.” She jabbed a finger in Ron’s direction, and Ginny’s eyes followed.

Ron was standing barely an inch from Bill, wand pressed to Bill’s chest, arguing heatedly. Bill pushed him back hard and pointed to the house, yelling back. Mum was trying to get between them, to intervene and de-escalate, but Ron was holding her back, apparently determined to argue with Bill himself.

Ginny tried to imagine what they could be saying. It was obvious they had to be arguing about Astoria, but Ginny couldn’t make sense of it. Bill had almost certainly started the argument with Mum, and Ginny wasn’t really surprised. Bill had been in the same year as Cottus Greengrass, and not a single school holiday or letter home came without Bill furiously ranting about something Cottus had done—and, often, gotten away with. 

What didn’t make sense was Ron. Ginny had low hopes for all of her brothers, but Ron had already proven he didn’t care what Ginny had to say. He’d gone right on hating her without so much as a blink, but here he was, apparently so upset by Bill’s uncharitable opinion of Astoria that he was shouting in Bill’s face about it and not giving any ground to Mum to handle it either. Why?

Bill turned on his heel suddenly and marched away from Ron and their mum, back over to Fleur. Ginny pushed past Charlie to follow.

“C’mon, Fleur, let’s go,” Bill said, taking her hand.

“Don’t bother coming to any Harpies matches either,” Ginny said hotly. 

Bill shot her a serious look. “You and Ron are too young to remember,” he said. Well, that confirmed it: Bill was holding Astoria accountable for her cousin’s actions. 

“I remember her saving my life.”

“We can talk about this later, Ginny. Congratulations on making the Harpies. Let’s go, Fleur.” Bill pulled on Fleur’s hand, but Fleur didn’t move.

“I don’t want to talk to you ever.” Ginny spat at Bill’s feet. She’d always liked Bill, but right now, all she felt was hate. Astoria had fought for them. Astoria’s name was cleared. Astoria was _crying_ , and he had the nerve to act like Astoria was an evil bogeyman. 

Bill looked at Ginny sadly and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ginny.” Again, he made to leave, but this time Fleur pulled her hand away.

“I will stay,” Fleur said. 

Bill looked at her incredulously. “What?” he said.

“I am staying.” She looked at Ginny. “I hope your friend is okay?”

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “just overwhelmed.” Why had she ever disliked Fleur? Ginny could have hugged her right now.

Bill looked from Fleur to Ginny and back. Then he sighed. “Can I talk to you?” he asked Fleur.

“Of course,” Fleur said. 

Ginny watched the two of them walk off away from the rest of the party, but her attention was pulled away by Hermione’s elbow in her ribs. Ginny turned and saw Astoria stepping nervously out of the house. Mum was on her almost immediately, fussing over her and waving everyone else to sit down for dinner. 

“Everything is vegetarian, dear,” Mum was saying quietly to Astoria when Ginny took the seat beside her. “The pie is—what did Delyth say it’s called? Vegan?” She patted Astoria’s shoulder. “Well, I’m still learning about that sort of thing, but Delyth thought that one had the best shot of turning out right vegan.”

Astoria, face beet red, said, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. You didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense. You’re our guest, dear.” Then Mum left and took her seat at the end of the table.

“Vegan?” Ginny asked Astoria. “I thought you were vegetarian.” 

“No, I am vegetarian,” Astoria said. “I just don’t usually eat stuff like eggs and milk at home, but I can’t do all the other stuff like Luna, especially not with my potions. Honestly, I’m not even vegetarian if you count potions. I guess Rhianna’s mum told your mum though.” Astoria shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Sweet of your mum, but really not necessary.” 

As everyone started dinner, the conversation quickly turned to quidditch, especially Ginny and Astoria’s years playing together in secret. Bill and Fleur eventually sat down with them, but Ginny decided not to draw Astoria’s attention to Bill and just ignored him. Bill was busy talking to Dad about something anyway.

“...so then Ginny goes and leaps off her bloody broom while she’s fifty feet up in the air,” Astoria said, recounting one of their many late night quidditch stories, “and somehow still manages to get the quaffle in.”

“How’d you get back on your broom?” Charlie asked. “You would have been in the hospital wing for ages if you even survived that big of a fall.”

“Astoria caught me,” Ginny said, grinning. “I knew she would.” 

Astoria shot her a murderous look. Merlin, she was cute when she was trying (and failing) to be furious with Ginny.

“That’s it exactly, Astoria,” Ginny teased. “You swooped down and caught me, and then you gave me that adorable death glare.” Ginny patted her cheek. There was something weirdly intoxicating about it, touching Astoria in front of her whole family. She wanted to keep touching Astoria.

“You’re lucky I don’t just scream any time you’re about to get yourself killed,” Astoria said. She turned to George. “That’s all she ever does, you know. Bloody coward. Can’t see how she landed in Gryffindor.” Then she dove into a story about the time a bunch of grindylows attacked Astoria, and, instead of helping, Ginny just screamed uselessly. For the story, Ginny eagerly played the part of the grindylows, pulling Astoria under the table as if it was the surface of the lake. Her legs were just as intoxicating as her cheek, and Ginny’s stomach did flips while she nipped playfully at Astoria. 

After dinner (by the end of which Ginny had moved entirely into Astoria’s lap), George led them all in a rousing game of “see who can beat a ball furthest over the garden wall.” Astoria turned beet red when everyone discovered what Ginny already knew: Astoria might not have Charlie’s raw strength, but she never missed. Every hit she made landed in the exact same spot, so Ron suggested setting up targets as a new challenge. While Astoria breezed through them, Ron managed to hit George in the face with the bat before he hit even one target. Astoria had another round of blushing when Percy complimented her on her “flawless” mending charm, and a third when Charlie whistled after she hit a moving target further out than Ron and Ginny could even hit the ball at all.

Bill and Fleur were the first to leave. Bill was brief in his goodbye, but Fleur made a point to include Astoria in all the hugging and kissing and congratulating. Not long after, Percy and Audrey left, followed by Hermione, who ignored Ron’s attempts to get her to stay. Mum and Dad wished them all a good night and headed off to bed as well, and then it was just Ginny, Astoria, Ron, George, and Charlie sitting in the backyard, chatting together.

Chatting quickly devolved into stupid drinking games. Astoria couldn’t drink (even a little bit of alcohol made her sick), so Ginny drank unhealthy amounts of pumpkin juice with her instead while her brothers got drunk. George tried offering some sort of cheering potion he’d been working on with Lee, but Ginny quickly shot that idea down. Astoria was not going to be a test subject for any of his inventions.

Ginny wasn’t drunk, but she felt buzzed anyway. Her night-long insistence on touching Astoria as much and as often as she could had reached the point of Ginny simply sitting in her lap giggling, hands on every bit of Astoria she could. She barely paid attention to whatever game they were playing. Astoria was much more interesting, with her dark brown eyes, her full lips, her straight eyebrows. Ginny could tell Astoria was relaxed by how expressive her face was, and she couldn’t get enough of watching the way her face moved.

Ginny hadn’t realised just how much she wanted Astoria here, sitting in her backyard, relaxed and laughing. She’d had fleeting fantasies of it, sure, but they were too unbelievable, so Ginny had pushed them away, determined not to hope for the impossible. But it was real now. Astoria was here, and Ginny’s whole body felt ready to burst with excitement. 

So it was a great relief to Ginny when Charlie, still pretty sober, announced that he was going to apparate George and Ron, both incredibly drunk, to their respective flats. As much as she enjoyed seeing her brothers getting along with Astoria, Ginny was bored of them and wanted to be alone with Astoria. 

“Fuck that,” Ron said to Charlie’s offer. Ginny only half heard him, far more focused on the lock of Astoria’s hair she was twisting around her fingers. “I don’t want to go to that bloody flat.” He harrumphed irritably.

“What’s wrong with your flat?” Charlie asked. 

“Harry, that’s what.”

Ginny’s attention was pulled away from Astoria’s hair, and she looked at Ron. “What?” Ginny asked him. 

“He’s a prick. Bad enough I work with him.”

“Here, here!” George hiccuped, laughing. “For dumping Ginny, right? That’s why we hate him?”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Charlie said with a quick glance at Ginny. “C’mon, George, let's get you home.”

“Do you have a hangover potion?” Astoria asked. “I think there’s some in my bag. Hold on.” Astoria pushed gently at Ginny to get off her. “Let me up please,” she said quietly. Ginny considered being stubborn, but she decided letting Astoria up would get rid of her brothers faster. Plus, Merlin, Astoria taking care of her stupid drunk brothers was just the most adorable thing. So Ginny let her up and watched her go. 

A few minutes later, Astoria returned with her bag and two small potions. “Here,” she said, handing one to George. “Take it first thing in the morning. It’ll clear the headache and nausea for a bit, but drink water too so they don’t come back when it wears off.” 

“Look at her, Ginny,” George said. “She’s so serious. We gotta get her to drink.”

“I could just take a puking pastille if you want me to vomit,” Astoria said with a laugh. 

“Naw, I’ll get you a good potion. All the fun of alcohol and none of the hangover!”

“You’re not testing your inventions on Astoria,” Ginny reminded him. She wrapped her arms around Astoria’s waist protectively and gave George a serious look.

“You can trust me.”

“Great,” Charlie said. “Now let’s get you home. Ron, does that mean you’re staying?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Got my room still.”

“All right. Then I guess this is goodbye for tonight. Astoria, it was great meeting you. Thanks for keeping my little sister safe.” 

They exchanged quick goodbyes, and then Charlie and George were gone. 

“You’re a good person,” Ron said after a moment of silence. “You know that, Ginny?” He was definitely drunk. Like super drunk. That was not a sober Ron sort of thing to say.

“Er, thanks, Ron,” Ginny said. She had no idea what had brought this on, and she was ready to be done with the last of her brothers. Something about the drunken seriousness of his voice pulled Ginny out of her giddiness though, and she let go of Astoria.

“No, I really mean it. You’re good.” Ron slapped his hand on Ginny’s shoulder and grinned stupidly at her. “You too, ‘Storia.” 

“Thank you,” Astoria said politely.

Then Ron’s face fell suddenly. “M’not,” he said miserably.

Ginny and Astoria exchanged a nervous glance. 

“The bloody worst, that’s me,” Ron continued. 

“Trust me, Ron,” Astoria said. “I know some much worse people.” Astoria sat back down and squeezed Ginny’s hand discreetly.

Ron shook his head. “But I’m a _coward_.”

“No, you’re not,” Ginny said. 

“Not like you. You’re brave, Ginny. Brave and good and the best sister I could ask for.”

“You’ve brave too, Ron.” 

“I’m just a bloody coward.” Then, suddenly, Ron started crying, and he flung himself onto Ginny. Ah, the joys of alcohol.

“You’re not a coward.” Ginny awkwardly patted his back, bewildered by her brother’s sudden breakdown. Astoria grimaced and shrugged, just as confused as Ginny.

“I am,” he sobbed. This wasn’t a bit of light crying. Ron’s whole body was shaking with each ugly heave of tears. 

“It’s okay, Ron.” Ginny resigned herself to dealing with his drunken sobbing and hugged him. “You’re not a coward.”

Back and forth they went for several minutes, with Astoria occasionally chiming in to reassure him too. Ginny felt stupid telling him the same thing over and over, but he hadn’t really given her anything else to go off. She was absolutely clueless as to why Ron was suddenly convinced he was a coward. He said it plenty of times, but she couldn’t see what had brought this on now. 

“You’re not a coward,” Ginny said for what felt like the hundredth time. 

This time, Ron didn’t immediately argue back. He cried and shook and then, so quietly Ginny only barely heard him, he said, “I’m gay.” Immediately, he sobbed even harder, squeezing the air out of Ginny. 

“What?” She knew she’d heard him, but _what_?

“Don’t tell Harry.”

“I’m not going to tell Harry.” Not like Harry was even talking to her anyway. And again: what? She looked at Astoria, but Astoria only had a questioning look for her. Astoria hadn’t heard him.

He cried hard for a few more minutes. Then, slowly, his tears started to subside, but he still held on to Ginny, face in her shoulder. 

“I hate myself, Ginny,” he said quietly. 

Ginny hadn’t a clue what she was supposed to say to that. None of this made sense. Ron had always been so desperate to get girls to fancy him, and he was easily the worst of her brothers with all the homophobic jokes. That awful song about Malfoy was Ron’s invention. 

“I just want to be normal,” Ron said. 

“There’s nothing wrong with—with that, Ron,” Ginny said, catching herself before she accidentally told Astoria. Ron might not want her to know. “It’s perfectly normal.”

That just made Ron start sobbing again. Was that the wrong thing to say? This has been way easier with Rhianna, and Ginny desperately wanted to hand him off to Astoria, who would surely know better what to say.

“I love you no matter what, Ron,” Ginny tried. 

Ron just cried harder. Ginny hoped it was relief, and she hoped she was doing this right. As frustrating and idiotic as Ron could be, she did really love her brother, and she wanted him to be happy. She was so completely out of her depth here though. 

When Ron’s tears subsided again, he pulled himself away from Ginny and sat back up. “I love you too, Ginny,” he choked. Then, just barely, he smiled. 

“C’mon, Ron,” Astoria said gently. “I think some rest will do you good. It’s been a long night.” She stood up and held out her hand. 

That only made Ron start crying again, but he flung himself at Astoria this time, making her stumble forward as he latched himself around her legs. 

Astoria patted his shoulder reassuringly and looked at Ginny, utterly bewildered. A couple weeks ago, he’d been more than happy to suggest sending her to Azkaban, and now here he was, crying on her legs. “It’ll all be okay in the morning,” Astoria said. “I promise.” 

“C’mon,” Ginny said, trying to pull her brother off Astoria. “Astoria’s right. You just need some sleep.”

Ron let Ginny pull him off and to his feet, and he nodded, wiping at his eyes. Together, Astoria and Ginny got Ron inside and up the stairs to his old bedroom. Astoria made him drink a glass of water and left him some hangover potion he was to drink as soon as he woke up in the morning. Ginny sent Neville a quick owl to say Ron was probably going to be late to work, and then the two of them finally went to Ginny’s room.


	23. A fool could see just how much I adore you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: brief mention of the war, Carrows, etc.; brief mention of attempted murder; nightmares/reference to trauma; bodily fluids (blood); internalised homophobia; and a fic about sexuality is gonna have some sexuality (reference to sex act, confused teenage hormones, no actual sex depicted)

“Thanks for helping with him,” Ginny said as she shut the door behind them. She waved her wand to lock the door and put up privacy charms for good measure. 

“I’ve seen far worse,” Astoria said. She sat down on the floor with her bag and dug through it.

“And, er, sorry about my family. I know they can be a lot.” 

Astoria looked back up at her and smiled. “Your family are lovely.” Then she returned to her attention to her bag, letting the conversation end.

Ginny sat down in front of her and watched the way her eyebrows stitched together in concentration as she dug. Some of her hair had fallen into her face, and Ginny wanted to brush it behind Astoria’s ear.

“Yes?” Astoria said, looking up. Her eyes flashed back and forth between Ginny’s eyes, as if she was trying to dig into Ginny’s brain to find answers.

Ginny’s insides fluttered. “Hi,” she said stupidly. Her family was gone, and Ron was fine, sleeping in his bed. Ginny had been looking forward to finally having some time alone with Astoria. Now that she had it, she felt dizzy with the possibilities. No school, no quidditch, no war—just the two of them without any other concerns. It felt like she’d been waiting years for this.

“Hi, Ginny.” Astoria was still trying to solve the puzzle that was Ginny. Ginny wished Astoria would stop asking so many unnecessary questions, even just with her eyes, and actually relax.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“You weren’t drinking pumpkin juice, were you?”

“Fully sober, I swear.”

Astoria arched an eyebrow. 

“I can’t like my friend being at my house?” 

Astoria searched Ginny’s eyes more. “You’re in an unusual mood tonight,” she said simply. Then she shrugged and opened her bag back up. 

Ginny watched her for a moment. “I’m really, really glad you’re here,” she said softly. 

Astoria seemed determined to ignore Ginny’s “unusual” mood. “You said your bed was really small,” she said, pulling some sort of plastic-y thing out of her bag, “so I brought Rhianna’s air mattress.”

Ginny looked at the lump of plastic. It looked nothing at all like any sort of bed or mattress she’d ever seen. “I told you you can sleep in my bed.”

“It’s your bed, and I’ve got this.” She waved the plastic.

“Fine, we’ll just have to share then.” Ginny grinned. She had planned on just grabbing blankets and sleeping on the floor, but sleeping with Astoria was far more appealing. Who cared if the bed was tiny? They didn’t need space.

Astoria cast a meaningful look toward Ginny’s very small bed. 

“I’ll only accept your insistence on me sleeping in my bed if you sleep in it first,” Ginny said.

Astoria rolled her eyes. “Great, I’ll go take a nap, and then it’s yours.” She stood up, abandoning the pile of plastic, and laid down on Ginny’s bed.

Ginny seized her opportunity and jumped on top of Astoria. “Hi.” She stretched herself out on Astoria, propped her torso up on her hands, and grinned down at Astoria. 

Astoria sighed and rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling. “I knew you were going to try to pin me.”

“Did you now?” Ginny’s whole body felt warm. She wondered if Astoria felt warm too. 

“Yeah, and you were going to crash my skull into the wall or something. At least now I’ve got a pillow instead of a concussion.” Ginny was pretty sure Astoria was carefully planning how to flip Ginny over without crashing Ginny’s skull into something. 

“We fit.”

Astoria laughed.

“What? We do.”

“I suppose you think we should just _sleep_ like this?”

“I’m comfortable.”

“Great. You can just spend the night planking.” Astoria gave a big, dramatic yawn, slipped her hands behind her head, and closed her eyes. Feign dropping her defenses and then strike when Ginny was least expecting it? Typical Astoria strategy. Ginny was ready.

But there was nothing typical about Astoria Greengrass lounging in Ginny’s bed, no matter how normal she might be trying to act about it. Ginny didn’t have any interest in pretending this was normal. It was new and different and exciting. Ginny watched Astoria’s dark eyelashes fluttering in her faked sleep, her lips fighting back a smile.

“You’re staring at me again,” Astoria said, eyes still closed.

“Not my fault you’re pretty.”

Astoria’s eyes flew open. “Of course not,” Astoria’s mouth said. Her eyes, on the other hand, were busy asking more questions, hiding under the cover of Astoria’s deceptively relaxed voice. “It’s my fault I’m so good-looking. I always make sure to get my beauty sleep.” 

Ginny laughed. “Well, see? It’s your fault if I’m staring.” 

Astoria sighed and slipped one hand out from under her head. “Well, fine, you can stare, but do try to stop drooling.” She wiped at the corner of Ginny’s mouth, grinning wickedly. Well, if she was going to be like that… 

“You mean you don’t want me to do this?” Ginny leaned closer to Astoria’s face and pushed a bit of spit to the front of her mouth, as if she might actually drool on Astoria.

“Bloody hell, Ginny,” Astoria said. She covered Ginny’s mouth and shoved her face away. Ginny licked her palm, and Astoria groaned. She pulled her hand away and wiped the spit on Ginny’s arm. “No, I don’t want your spit on my face.”

“Heart-breaking,” Ginny teased.

“You’ll live. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take that nap.” Astoria closed her eyes again. “Enjoy the view.”

“I will, thanks.” Ginny watched her for a moment. Astoria was not even trying to hide her smirk now. It might have been a cocky, smug sort of smile, but it was still a smile, and Ginny liked seeing Astoria smile. She used to never smile—always too serious, too worried, too busy considering every possible threat and way things could go wrong. 

Astoria had changed a lot in the past year though. She was still serious and worried, still looking for threats, but she’d relaxed a great deal anyway. She laughed and smiled far more in the past year than Ginny could remember in the previous three years combined. And tonight she’d laughed and smiled with Ginny’s _family_. Once upon a time, the only time Ginny could ever see the real Astoria was late at night, after a long midnight quidditch practice, once everyone else had left, too tired to maintain her perfect façade any longer. Now Astoria relaxed into herself even here, a world away in Ginny’s life.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, Ginny’s cheerful thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, deep ache in her gut. Her arms and core gave up holding her up, as if the weight of the ache had physically crushed her, and she collapsed into Astoria. She felt the question in Astoria’s breathing, a pause, and then Astoria’s arms wrapped around Ginny. Ginny’s heart ached for Astoria and the years spent hiding who she was, and it ached for herself, still broken and scarred by war, and it ached, suddenly, for her brother. Things were better, but they weren’t really okay. 

“Ron’s gay,” Ginny muttered into Astoria’s shoulder. He’d said it in front of Astoria, so Ginny decided she could tell her. She was too far out of her depth, and she needed Astoria for this.

Astoria’s chest rose and fell slowly. “He’ll be okay, Ginny,” Astoria said. 

“How many other people have I been stupidly letting believe I hate them? You know, don’t you?” 

Then Astoria just laughed, which Ginny thought was a wholly inappropriate reaction. 

Ginny pushed herself up to frown at Astoria’s laughing face, and Astoria let her hands fall down to Ginny’s waist. “Why is that funny?”

But Astoria just laughed harder, quickly deteriorating into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” Ginny got off Astoria and sat instead on the narrow strip of bed beside her, facing Astoria with her legs stretched out along Astoria’s side.

“Oh, absolutely.” Astoria put her hands over her face, still dying of laughter. 

“Ha ha, laugh at the big homophobe. Hilarious.”

Astoria dropped her hands and looked at Ginny, making a valiant effort to bite back her laughter. “Oh, Ginny, no.” She scrambled up and hugged Ginny, still shaking with poorly held-back laughter. “No, no, no, I’m not laughing because you used to say some really dumb shit.” Astoria pulled back and looked at Ginny, grinning. “I’m laughing because you asked a funny question. How many closeted friends do you have?” She laughed again. “Oh, you poor thing.”

“Don’t think you could have, I don’t know, told me to stop being an idiot sooner?”

Astoria sighed. “You have got to get over feeling bad every time someone comes out to you, Ginny.” Then she started laughing again. “I have it on good authority that you’ve helped at least one person come to terms with being gay, so give yourself some credit.”

“What?”

Astoria doubled over laughing. 

“What does that even mean?”

Astoria pulled herself together, still clearly fighting back laughter, and said, “Well, you know, you snogged a girl, and she realised she liked that a lot better than any boy she’d tried snogging.” Astoria patted Ginny on the shoulder. “Thank you for your service to the community, Gin. Any time you want to send us some more gays, go right ahead.”

“Really? Who?” She started going through a list in her mind of who it could be.

“Yeah, I’m not telling you that.”

Then something else in what Astoria said hit her. “Wait, ‘us?’”

“Oh.” Astoria’s laughter fizzled out, but she was still smiling. “Would you like to practice not beating yourself up every time someone comes out to you?”

“Er, okay?” What was that supposed to mean? That ‘us’ sounded a lot like—Ginny gave herself a mental shake. She was trying not to jump to any conclusions.

“And get used to the idea that if someone hasn’t come out to you, it’s probably not because they think you’d hate them or that you’ve done anything wrong?”

“Sure.” 

“Great. Do you remember my friend Victoria? My year, curly hair, family fled the country to escape the war?”

“Vaguely.”

“She’s my ex.”

“Like actually your ex, or hypothetically?” Was this supposed to be a practice exercise in how to handle friends coming out? Or was Astoria actually saying she was—

“Actually my ex. We mostly just sat around holding hands and debating how we’d convince my parents to let me marry someone who wasn’t Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“So you’re gay?”

Astoria shrugged. “I dated a girl. I’d do it again. I’m not really bothered either way. Anyway, this was back when you still hated my guts, so it’s not like I kept it from you. I always figured if I dated a girl again, well, then, there you are. You’d know, and it wouldn’t matter. Honestly never really thought you’d care, so I don’t see why I’d need to go out of my way to tell you about my terribly boring love life before we were friends.”

Ginny folded her arms across her chest. “This is the first time you have ever told me _anything_ about your love life, Astoria. I don’t think it’s boring.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “I haven’t had any love life to tell you about. Victoria and Phil, and that’s it. You know everything now. Anyway.” As if it was the most obvious thing to do, Astoria climbed onto Ginny’s lap and ran her hands along the sides of Ginny’s face and through her hair, mussing it everywhere.

Ginny laughed while her heart thundered in her chest. What on earth was Astoria doing? She’d just admitted to apparently sometimes fancying girls, and instead of awkwardly avoiding anything that could be interpreted as even vaguely like she fancied Ginny, she’d gotten right on top of Ginny. Not that Ginny wanted her to get off.

Then, just as Ginny considered the possibility that Astoria might try to kiss her, Astoria swung her legs off the bed and stood up suddenly, trailing a couple fingers along Ginny’s neck and shoulder as she walked away. It had been a silly thought. Astoria wouldn’t do that.

“Is that supposed to mean something now?” Ginny asked with a laugh. The lightness she’d felt a few minutes ago was back, fluttering pleasantly in her stomach. Astoria was almost certainly just trying to mess with Ginny, but Ginny wasn’t complaining.

Astoria shrugged and knelt down in front of the abandoned pile of plastic she’d called a mattress. “Maybe it means I know you like it.” And there was Astoria’s dumb, cocky smirk. “Did you want it to mean something?” She unfolded the plastic, poked her wand at it, and it suddenly started expanding.

Ginny watched as the plastic became something she actually recognised as a mattress, filling most of the floor space. Astoria pulled sheets out of her bag and made the bed with a casual flick of her wand. It was more than a little maddening how casually good at little things like that Astoria was. _Years of wealthy, pureblood tutoring, Gin_ , Astoria had once told her. _Magic outside of school is perfectly legal if you have a Ministry-approved tutor present._ Ginny doubted others like Malfoy or Parkinson could make something as mundane as making a bed look that elegant though.

Then, as if nothing at all had changed between them—and, Ginny reasoned, there was no reason to think it had—Astoria turned away and stripped down to her boxer briefs. Ginny, who had seen Astoria naked a million times, suddenly felt her cheeks burn and looked away. 

“Good call, Ginny,” Astoria teased. “Looking at my fantastic arse might make you gay.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Ginny said. She rolled her eyes and tried not to watch as Astoria bent over to grab pyjamas out of her bag, but she definitely saw Astoria shaking her arse teasingly. “Bloody hell.” Ginny decided to distract herself from whatever Astoria was trying to do by grabbing her own pyjamas off the floor where she’d tossed them in the morning. 

“Ooh, do I get a show too?” Astoria teased. She finished pulling on her pyjamas and jumped onto her new bed, leaning back on her arms, legs dangling off the side as she grinned at Ginny.

Ginny gave Astoria an irritated huff, but she wasn’t really all that irritated. This was their game—taking the piss, winding each other up, pushing each other’s buttons. They pushed and poked and prodded, but the game would always end the moment either of them was actually uncomfortable. Ginny wasn’t going to let Astoria have all the fun. 

“Please, I can do so much better than your juvenile arse shaking,” Ginny said.

Astoria cocked an eyebrow. “Go on then,” she said.

Ginny was sure she must have lost her mind, but she tossed her pyjamas at Astoria’s face and climbed onto her, straddling her lap. “First of all,” Ginny said, pretending to lecture Astoria as Astoria pulled the pyjamas off her face, “if you want someone to watch you, you don’t go run away to the other side of the room.”

“Good to know, thanks,” Astoria said, as if Ginny had just given her a tip for stirring a potion. If Astoria was going to play it cool, Ginny was determined to make her crack. 

“Second of all, what even was the point of this?” Ginny put her hands in Astoria’s hair and mussed it like Astoria had done to hers. “Juvenile.” 

Astoria nodded seriously. Ginny wanted to wipe that calm façade right off her face.

So Ginny locked her eyes with Astoria’s and slowly pulled her own shirt off and flung it across the room.

Astoria’s face was calm and stupid, and her gaze didn’t so much as flicker away from Ginny’s eyes. “Well,” Astoria said, “that finally explains why you have clothes all over your room.” Ginny could punch her, so smug. 

Ginny undid the clasp on her bra and dropped it on Astoria’s face. “Got a better idea where I should be putting my clothes, Miss Perfect?”

“Mm, the wonderful smell of boob sweat.” Astoria grinned. “Oh, sorry, were you saying something?”

“You’re such a brat.” Ginny grabbed the bra off her face and flung it away. Astoria wasn’t going to crack. This was stupid. What was she even trying to do? Get Astoria turned on? Why? Just to prove she could? Idiotic. Ginny rolled off Astoria and pulled her pyjama top on.

“Aw, is my lesson done?” Astoria frowned.

“Enjoying it, were you?” Ginny rolled her eyes. 

“Of course. It was very enlightening.”

Smug, arrogant, conceited, little—Ginny couldn’t stop herself. She took Astoria’s bait. Ginny stood up on the bed, wobbling as she adjusted to the weird ways this mattress moved, and stepped on either side of Astoria, hovering over Astoria’s face. 

“Er, hi, Ginny,” Astoria said, her voice finally betraying her. She might be keeping her face under control and her eyes locked on Ginny’s, but Ginny definitely heard the way Astoria’s breath caught in her chest. 

That tiny crack in Astoria’s façade only spurred Ginny onward, and she ran her fingers slowly along Astoria’s jaw, pulling her closer. “What was it you said you _feasted_ on again?” Ginny asked. Ginny’s entire body was on fire at the mere suggestion, but it was worth it just to see Astoria suddenly unravelling, her face flushing, her breathing uneven. 

“Ginny…” Astoria breathed. Slowly, eyes full of questions, Astoria shifted her weight and lifted one shaking hand to Ginny’s knee.

Ginny’s breath caught the moment Astoria touched her, and her legs turned to jelly. She swayed, quickly losing the battle with gravity and the almost liquid-like wobbling of the mattress. Before she could fly face-first off the bed and into the hard floor though, Astoria’s hands were on her hips, pulling Ginny down onto her as she fell. 

Ginny didn’t move at first, heart pounding, trying to catch her breath somehow, but Astoria’s hands were still on her hips, and she could feel Astoria’s heavy, laboured breaths beneath her. The combination seemed to be making breathing impossible for Ginny, as her far-from-innocent mind offered suggestions for where else Astoria’s hands could go. 

Then Astoria spoke, soft and breathless. “I smell blood.”

It took a moment for Ginny to make sense of what she’d said, too distracted by the waves of heat coursing through her body, but she scrambled up once she did. “What?” Ginny said. But as soon as she saw Astoria’s face, it made sense. Astoria’s nose was bleeding. “Shit.” Ginny pulled out her wand, but Astoria put a gentle hand on her wrist.

“Don’t. I can mend it. It’s just broken, right?” She wiped a bit of the blood off her face and looked at her hand, as if the blood could tell her what her nose looked like. And then, for reasons Ginny couldn’t discern, Astoria burst into another fit of giggles. 

Ginny didn’t know what to do. Her brain was starting to catch up on the past few minutes, and she had a lot of questions for herself and Astoria alike. Astoria giggling beneath her wasn’t helping any though, and Ginny grabbed her shoulders. “Would you stop?” she said, harsher than Astoria probably deserved. 

Astoria stopped laughing immediately.

“Sorry,” Ginny said. Maybe she’d overreacted. 

“It’s just a broken nose, Ginny. Better than you cracking your head anyway.”

“No, I mean sorry for—” Ginny groaned. She felt a flare of anger toward Astoria, relaxed and laughing while Ginny—well, Ginny wasn’t sure exactly how she felt, other than irrationally angry. Angry, always angry. Ginny rolled off Astoria, grabbed her pyjama bottoms, and left before she could take everything out on Astoria.

When Ginny came back into the room, far calmer and now fully in her pyjamas, Astoria was laid out on her bed, books open, deep in concentration. Her nose looked fine, and she seemed to be writing an essay for school. Astoria didn’t look up, so Ginny let out the breath she hadn’t realised she wasn’t holding and got under the sheets in her own bed. 

Ginny still felt overwhelmed and confused by everything, but she wasn’t angry now. She’d been angry because she was scared and panicking and couldn’t understand why Astoria wasn’t. When she calmed herself down though, Ginny had realised she’d snapped at Astoria’s first reaction, laughter. It only made sense that Astoria had shut down after that. 

“Sorry,” Astoria said quietly after a few minutes. She still didn’t look up from her essay. “I shouldn’t have been winding you up. You’ve had enough to deal with the past couple weeks without me adding to it all.”

Ginny laid on her side and watched Astoria working. Astoria flipped through her books, zigzagging one finger along the pages as she skimmed for key passages. When she found something she wanted, she’d spin the pen around in her hand and add to her essay, drawing elegant loops as her eyes flashed from parchment to book and back again. This was an Astoria that Ginny understood: hard at work, serious, ambitious, unwilling to give in to distraction. The familiarity was soothing.

But over the past year and this summer especially, Ginny had had small peeks at a different person. That Astoria made bad dating choices driven by hormones and not careful reason. Before Ginny had known her, she’d dreamed of marrying her girlfriend like a normal, giddy little kid. And, only minutes ago, Ginny had watched Astoria unravelling first hand, unable to maintain her cool façade any longer.

Ginny had been desperately curious to see beneath that façade, but it frightened her too. Astoria was always in control, and seeing her not in control felt dangerous, reckless, like Astoria contained far too much power to be let loose on the world. But Ginny was nothing if not a thrill seeker, if not impulsive, if not utterly intoxicated by the feeling of Astoria relinquishing control to Ginny, if only for a few seconds. 

She wanted more. She wanted to crawl over to Astoria’s bed now, pull her away from her books, and kiss her. She wanted to know all the wild, dangerous parts of Astoria and taste her skin. In hindsight, Ginny had spent the whole evening looking for ways beneath Astoria’s surface, hands reaching for every bit of Astoria she could find. She wanted to reach even more of Astoria, places too impolite to touch in front of her family, and she wanted Astoria to touch her just as desperately. 

But Ginny stayed put. Astoria’s endless calm was comfortable and comforting, a safe and steady rock in Ginny’s constant sea of recklessness. Ginny’s gut had already proven itself to be dangerous in the worst ways, an unhappy source of hurt and pain. There was nothing to be gained from following it down another dangerous path.

Eventually, Ginny grew tired of the silence and the way her own thoughts filled it. “Do you still have a lot of school work left?” Ginny asked. 

Astoria didn’t answer immediately. She flipped the pages of her book, found a passage, and added another sentence to her essay. “Haven’t really had time to even start most of it,” Astoria said without looking up. “I’ll figure it out.” There was a hint of nervousness in her voice, but whether it was about her school work or something else, Ginny couldn’t tell. Then Astoria set down her pen, took a deep breath, and tilted her head slightly in Ginny’s direction. “Thank you for introducing me to your family today, Ginny,” she said softly.

“I’m glad you got on with them.” 

“Me too.” Then Astoria’s shoulders relaxed, and she returned her focus to her school work.

Ginny decided watching Astoria was too dangerous and stared up at the ceiling, a dim buzzing in her body. She was definitely not getting much sleep tonight.

Eventually, Ginny became aware that she hadn’t heard a page turn in awhile and looked over at Astoria. She was fast asleep, face buried in a book and pen still in hand. Ginny wasn’t sure what to do, but eventually the appeal of an excuse to be closer to Astoria, however briefly, won out over her fears that she might find herself unable to resist her burning curiosity for everything that lay beneath Astoria’s surface. 

Ginny slipped out of her bed and, as gently as she could, lifted Astoria’s arms and head one by one to clear Astoria’s school things off the bed. She closed Astoria’s books and set her things carefully on the floor beside Astoria’s mattress. Feeling daring, Ginny brushed her fingers lightly along the side of Astoria’s face and resisted the urge to just lean down and kiss those soft-looking lips.

Astoria murmured quietly, making Ginny jump and jerk her hand away. 

Ginny got back into her own bed, waved out the light, and tried to find anything to think about but Astoria. Thankfully, she had plenty else to worry about. 

There was Ron, for one. Hermione’s litany of horrors wasn’t about Rhianna; it was about Ron. Oh, Merlin, _Hermione_. There was another train of thought Ginny didn’t want to touch. Ron was deep in a hole of lies he’d built for himself, apparently desperate to escape being gay. Ginny wished she could take just a sliver of Astoria’s casual nonchalance about her sexuality and give it to Ron. Astoria wouldn’t even notice it was gone, and Ron clearly could use it.

There was also her new quidditch career to consider. She had to meet with the Harpies again tomorrow. Astoria thought she should ask for more money, and Ginny trusted her judgement, but Ginny thought she’d rather face another year of the Carrows than negotiate for more money, especially with Teresa Averford. “Hi, I’d love to live out my lifelong dream of playing for the Harpies, but you’re going to have to pay me more for the honour.” It felt dirty and greedy and wrong, but Astoria was right: the Harpies needed her. They needed both of them. Astoria had put her money to good use supplying the Herbology Society, and Ginny could put her money to good use too, couldn’t she?

Then, a better thought occurred to her. Astoria had pushed the Harpies to get money for the Herbology Society, and even if Astoria had some self-interest in that, Ginny knew she was likely motivated more by concern for people like Ron than herself. What Astoria hadn’t pushed for though was the thing Astoria spent all day, every day working for: actual gold in her vault. That was something Ginny felt no qualms walking in tomorrow and demanding: pay Astoria more. She’d put in years of hard work building something the Harpies were now more than happy to slap their name on and reap the rewards from. The Harpies were getting a steal. Astoria would probably want to skin her alive for it, and that suited Ginny just fine. 

Ginny’s brain continued to wander for hours. She worried about Ron. She practiced how she’d make her demands to the Harpies. She came up with a plan to see Rhianna in the morning and ask her if there was any kind of foundation for gay people she could have the Harpies make a donation to. She thought about Harry, still caught between her hurt and anger and just missing him. She fantasied about what Astoria’s lips would feel like on her own and the brief, wild look in Astoria’s eyes when she’d touched Ginny. Bit difficult to resist thoughts of Astoria when she was sleeping right there in Ginny’s room. Ginny tried her best.

At some point though, it became impossible to ignore Astoria. The occasional sounds of her shifting her sleep suddenly grew louder and more frantic, and Astoria started whimpering. Ginny couldn’t see much in the dark, so she sat up, squinting at the dark, squirming mass, unsure what to do. Astoria seemed to be having a nightmare. Should Ginny wake her up? It didn’t seem to be getting better, but Ginny didn’t know what to do, even without the added hesitation she felt now. 

“No,” Astoria moaned. She made more sounds Ginny couldn’t make out, but she sounded like she might be crying, coherent words occasionally making it out. “Don’t… Stop… Can’t… Please…” Her scattered speech was punctuated with moans that twisted her spine like a curse. Ginny was paralysed, unsure what to do, unsure if she should intervene. Then, Astoria whimpered, “Ginny…”

Ginny jumped out of her bed. “Astoria?” Ginny whispered. “Astoria, wake up.” She reached for Astoria’s shoulder.

Astoria jolted upright at Ginny’s touch, and Ginny jerked her hand away. Ginny could just make out Astoria’s fast, uneven breathing. After a moment, Astoria pulled her knees up and slumped forward.

“Astoria? Are you okay?”

Astoria didn’t respond, breathing hard, but she at least seemed to be awake now. Hesitantly, Ginny put her hand on Astoria’s back. Astoria was shaking. 

“Do you want tea? My mum usually makes me tea when I have bad nightmares.”

Astoria shook her head.

“Do you… want a hug?”

Astoria didn’t say anything. 

Ginny hesitated for a moment, but this was no time to be awkward. Ginny sat down on the bed and put her arms around Astoria. She was still shaking, and her breaths came in uneven bursts. Her pyjamas were sticky with sweat. Astoria ignored Ginny at first, but as her breathing slowed and evened out, she relaxed into Ginny.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Astoria said quietly after several slow breaths.

“Naw, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Ginny said.

“Oh.” There was a tiredness in her voice, as if she wanted to ask Ginny what was wrong but couldn’t actually find the energy for it. 

“Just quidditch jitters,” Ginny lied. 

“Right.” The lie seemed to work.

“Is there anything I can do? What does Rhianna usually do?”

Astoria just shook her head. 

“Okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” Ginny realised she didn’t even know what Astoria had nightmares about. The Carrows? The Battle? Her Death Eater cousin chasing her through the castle trying to murder her? Whatever it was, Ginny wished she could somehow shield Astoria from it, and she squeezed tighter. 

Several minutes later, Astoria shrugged out of Ginny’s arms and laid back down, eyes on the ceiling. Ginny hesitated again. She wished Astoria would just tell her how to help. 

“You can tell me no,” Ginny said. She considered briefly if she was motivated by something other than just Astoria’s best interests, but she shook away her doubts. Astoria needed her friend. So Ginny slipped under Astoria’s sheets and put a hesitant arm across Astoria’s stomach. 

Astoria looked at her, a deadness in her eyes that frightened Ginny far more than wildness from earlier. Then Astoria let out a slow breath and turned away. Ginny couldn’t tell if that was a no, but then Astoria scooted closer, pressing her back into Ginny and pulling Ginny’s arm around her. Ginny wrapped herself around Astoria and held on tight as they both slowly drifted to sleep.


	24. Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of AIDS epidemic, sexist language ("slag"), mention of the war, brief mention of hangover, brief reference to child abuse

> Friday, 20 August 1999. The Burrow. Morning.

Ginny awoke to her alarm shouting impatiently at her. “Get up, you useless layabout!” it said. 

Ginny groaned irritably, still very much asleep. Astoria was pressed against her, fingers laced in Ginny’s on Astoria’s stomach. 

“Morning,” Astoria said softly. Her thumb traced soft lines on Ginny’s hand, and one foot brushed gently against Ginny’s ankles. 

On second thought, waking up might not be so bad as long as she could stay here in bed. “Morning,” Ginny said. She pulled herself closer, burying her face in Astoria’s neck, and breathed her in, soft and warm and—

“Is this how you want to spend your life?” Bloody alarm was in a right mood today, but Ginny was too lost in Astoria’s warm body to care. “Wasting away with a new lover every week?”

Ginny jolted upright. “Would you shut up?” she snapped at the alarm, face burning.

“Go on, up with you, you randy slag. You haven’t the face to shag your way to the top, you know.”

“ _Accio wand_ ,” Astoria sighed as Ginny’s alarm continued to shout insults and insinuations (“Must need glasses to sleep with the likes of you!”). Ginny’s wand nearly took out her nose as it flew, but Astoria caught it and handed it to her. 

“Piece of junk,” Ginny said. She pointed her wand at the alarm and shut the miserable thing up. 

“Nice alarm.” Astoria swung her legs off the bed and stood up. Ginny felt a dull emptiness in her stomach, and she wanted to reach out to pull Astoria back into bed, but the moment was gone.

“Sorry,” Ginny said. “I forgot I had it set to go off.” 

Astoria picked up her bag and smiled slightly. “No, it’s fine. I was already awake.” 

“It’s always rude, but that was just—”

“It’s really fine.” Astoria dug in her bag for a moment and pulled out a potion. “Thanks for last night,” she said quietly. Her cheeks flushed. She tapped the lid of her potion once with her wand and threw it back. “It helped.” 

“Are you feeling any better then?” Ginny felt her own cheeks flushing again at the memory of Astoria’s body pressed against hers all night. 

Astoria shrugged. “I’m fine. I just missed taking my sleeping potion. Sorry.”

Ginny hesitated for a moment. Astoria was always so guarded, but… “What do you have nightmares about? The war?”

Astoria looked at her, considering. Ginny wondered if she shouldn’t have asked. Then Astoria said, “I’ve had them as long as I can remember. Long before the war.” She put her potion away, took out another, and repeated the process. “I don’t have them as much as I used to, and they’re not as awful as they used to be either.”

“You looked like someone was using the cruciatus curse on you.”

Astoria sighed. She set her bag on the mattress and looked at Ginny. “They’re just nightmares, Ginny. They’re not real.”

“But what you have nightmares about is real, isn’t it?”

Astoria froze. Again, Ginny had the panicked feeling that she had pushed too far and Astoria was about to shut her out. But, instead, Astoria opened her mouth and said, “I have been afforded a great deal of advantages by my upbringing.” 

When it became clear that was the end of Astoria’s statement, Ginny decided to try her luck some more. “But good penmanship doesn’t make you happy?”

Astoria laughed lightly. “Strangely, no.” 

“Not much of an advantage then, is it?” 

They seemed to be locked in a staring contest now. Astoria’s eyes, as usual, were digging for information but giving nothing meaningful away. Ginny was sure she’d pushed too far, but she tried her best to make her own face somehow convey whatever it was Astoria wanted to find. _Please just let me in for once_ , Ginny wanted to say. 

“What is your point, Ginny?” Astoria said finally. 

“I’m just trying to understand. You barely talk about your family, and when you do, it’s always… abstract or something. I can never figure out if you don’t want to talk about it, or if you just don’t want to talk to me about it.”

Astoria sighed. “It’s not personal, Ginny. It’s just too complicated to talk about, okay? My family were hard on me because they believed I could do better, and as shit as they were…” Astoria tossed her wand to Ginny and then, wandlessly and wordlessly, twisted her hands through the air. When she stopped, she smiled. “You’re cute.” Ginny’s stomach fluttered while Astoria grabbed her wand back and conjured a mirror.

Ginny looked at her reflection and saw a dozen small, yellow flowers scattered through her hair. “Well, I suppose I do look cute now. Ten points to Greengrass house.” 

“You were already cute.” Ginny’s cheeks burned, but Astoria didn’t seem to notice as she spoke. “I think Xie house should get the points though. My father might have paid for my tutors, but my aunt is the one who insisted we learn nonverbal and wandless magic from the start. She got my grandparents involved and threw in plenty of complaints about my mother ignoring cultural and family traditions. My mum had to say yes.” 

“Modern European magic is heavily reliant on wands and incantations,” Astoria continued, “but even babies can do wandless and wordless magic. It’s really not as hard as people make it out to be if you start young, which is why my aunt was so insistent about it. My mum just wanted us to ‘fit in’ and thought we should have the same lessons as kids like Draco. You know, so we could be White enough.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “She lost that battle, and it’s a good thing too. That Greengrass money was clearly well spent teaching me how to make Ginny Weasley even cuter than she already is. I think they’d be proud, don’t you?”

“Exactly what they envisioned, I’m sure,” Ginny somehow managed to say. There was no way Astoria couldn’t see just how badly Ginny’s face was burning. She probably looked like a tomato. 

“Definitely. Points for that, and points for, you know…” Astoria shrugged a shrug that somehow encompassed the entirety of her part in the war. “Those bloody idiots never considered that a fifteen-year-old could do nonverbal magic, much less say one incantation and cast something else.” Astoria fidgeted with her wand, and then, smirking, she jabbed her wand lazily at Ginny and said, “ _Hocus pocus, plague of locusts_.” 

Ginny had been expecting a tickling charm, but instead she felt a light, warm feeling spread through her body. Ginny grinned—partly because it was now impossible not to. “I have a serious meeting today,” Ginny tried to complain. She felt far too cheerful to care though, and she quickly forgot why she was concerned. Why even worry about her meeting? Everything was going to be fine. No, great. Fantastic. Perfect. 

“Now you won’t be nervous,” Astoria said. Wasn’t she just the best? Astoria was totally the best. And she had felt so nice this morning, so good and lovely and perfect. 

Ginny leaned forward and put her arms around Astoria’s neck. “Thanks.” She twirled a lock of Astoria’s lovely hair in her fingers. “You’re pretty.” 

“Oh, bloody hell.”

“I love you.” Ginny closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss Astoria’s soft lips without even the slightest of doubts. Kissing Astoria was the obvious thing to do.

But Ginny’s doubts returned to her suddenly, like water bursting through a dam, not even an inch from Astoria’s lips. Ginny jumped away so fast that she ended up on the floor on the other side of Astoria’s bed, nursing what she suspected would soon be new bruises. 

“Shit, sorry,” Ginny said. She didn’t dare look at Astoria. One bloody cheering charm, and Ginny had nearly kissed her—and would have too, if Astoria hadn’t reversed the charm in time. What was wrong with Ginny? 

“I love you too,” Astoria said. “Might have been a bit too strong, sorry. Guess I just got carried away because you do actually look incredibly cute right now.”

Ginny dared look at her now. Astoria’s cheeks were slightly pink, but she was smiling. She didn’t seem the slightest bit upset that Ginny had almost kissed her. Which was a slight problem because it only made Ginny want to kiss her even more. 

“Finally got you out of bed at least, you randy slag,” Astoria said.

“Merlin, I hate you.” Ginny pulled herself off the floor and grabbed clean clothes. “I’m gonna shower.” Then she left.

When she returned, Astoria’s mattress was gone, and Astoria was sitting on the floor, nose buried in books again. Ginny once again felt a sudden desire to pull Astoria away from her books and kiss her. Maybe she could. Maybe Astoria would let her. Maybe—Ginny shook herself. 

“I have to be at the Ministry for my portkey at a quarter to ten,” Ginny said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “Do you know if Rhianna’s working this morning?”

Astoria looked up. “Probably not. I think she was closing last night. Why?”

“I just wanted to ask her something.” 

Astoria’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she shrugged. “Okay. I have to be at St. Mungo’s for ten, so I can go with you to the Ministry if you want. It’s a short jump from there. Probably a good idea to check on your brother before we go though.”

Ginny couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. Astoria worrying about Ron was more than Ginny could handle.

“What?”

“You’re sweet.”

“Oh, bloody hell.” Astoria rolled her eyes, but she smiled. Ginny liked making her smile.

They ate breakfast, and then went back upstairs to check on Ron. He was asleep, but Astoria nudged him awake to take the potion and drink water. Then they left him to sleep off the rest of his hangover and apparated together to Astoria’s.

“I survived!” Astoria called as they walked in.

“Goddammit,” Rhianna called back.

They followed Rhianna’s voice into the living room where she was sitting with her mum, half-watching the television.

“How was dinner?” Ms. Owens asked. 

“Good,” Astoria said. “Thanks for helping Mrs. Weasley.” 

“Ginny, why is she in one piece?” Rhianna asked. “She’s supposed to be at least a little maimed.”

“They loooove me,” Astoria said. She flung herself into Rhianna’s lap. “I’m just so loveable.”

“God, get off me.” Rhianna shoved Astoria to the floor. “You even smell smug and insufferable.” She looked back up at Ginny. “Seriously, what’d you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Ginny said, her fast-reddening cheeks betraying her.

“I’m telling you, Rhi,” Astoria said. She was relaxing happily on the floor now. “I’m just that great. Wowed the Weasleys with my sexy quidditch muscles and angelic Healer heart.” She flexed and smirked and put a hand to her heart. “They’re all in love with me now.”

“Fleur too?” Rhianna said with a pointed look at Astoria. 

Astoria kicked Rhianna hard. “Shut your face. I told Ginny about Victoria.”

“Oh, good. Did you tell Ginny about how you wouldn’t let her kiss you because you thought your parents could use prior incantato on your lips and would find out you’d been kissing a filthy half-blood?”

Astoria turned bright red. “You’re just jealous that I’ve had a girlfriend and you haven’t.”

“Do you remember how you made me read all of the poems you wrote for Victoria? Should I recite some for Ginny? Ooh, remember the one about Potions class? I bet Ginny would love that one. I still have it memorised because you made me read it so many times.” 

“Ginny,” Astoria said quickly, looking mortified, “didn’t you have something to ask Rhianna?”

“Oh,” Ginny said. “Yeah.” She was kind of hoping to be a bit more discreet about wanting to ask Rhianna something without Astoria around. 

“Go ahead,” Rhianna said.

“Well, er…” 

“No, it’s a secret, Rhianna,” Astoria said. She grinned at Ginny. 

“Oh,” Rhianna said. She stood up. “Do you want to go to my room for a minute?”

Ginny nodded and followed Rhianna to her room upstairs. She closed the door behind them. 

Rhianna sat down on the edge of her bed and summoned the chair from her desk for Ginny to sit. “What’s up?” Rhianna said. 

“Well, er…” Ginny said as she sat down. Her eyes wandered the room, which could not be more unlike Astoria’s just down the hall. 

Ginny had spent enough time in Rhianna’s room to know the post-tornado look was just the natural state of things, but there always seemed to be new detritus scattered across its surfaces. It made Ginny feel a lot better about her own messy room. At least her floor was usually only covered in dirty clothes. Today, Rhianna seemed to have a new art project spread out on the floor. 

Ginny pulled her focus back to Rhianna. “I was wondering if you knew if there were any good charities for, er, gay people?” She said. “Astoria thinks I can negotiate for more from the Harpies, so—”

“The Harpies?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I didn’t want to make you keep it a secret from Astoria, but they offered me a contract.”

“That’s brilliant, Ginny! So you’re taking it?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t think I could actually say no. Anyway, I thought I’d ask them to make a donation to a charity or something as a condition of me signing.”

Rhianna smiled. “That’s kind of you, Ginny. What sort of thing did you want to donate to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, okay, Astoria got them to indirectly donate to what’s essentially an LGBT youth support group.”

“LG—what?”

“LGBT. Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender.”

“I think I need to borrow those books you got Astoria.” 

Rhianna laughed. “Sure. Anyway, you could do something like that, but I don’t know that we need much money, really. Other options would be, er, advocacy groups, which is the sort of stuff Hermione wants to do, but obviously LGBT-focused. You also have AIDS research—that’s the disease that’s killing tons of gay men in particular, muggle and wizard. Then there are helplines and support groups that help people who are struggling to accept themselves or just need someone to talk to.”

“There are groups that do that?”

“That’s essentially what the Herbology Society is most of the time, but there are also proper organisations that do that for all ages, not just kids.”

“Do you know one? I think that sounds good.” 

“Well, there’s the London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard. It’s a muggle organisation, but they have owl and floo services too. It’s an anonymous service anyone can contact for support, not just in London. It’s been going for like twenty-five years, and it’s literally life-saving for some people.”

“Perfect. I’ll do that one.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

“What’d you call it? Gay Robin Hood?”

Rhianna laughed. “Yeah. What brought this idea on anyway?” She leaned back. “Pub brawl for me, throw money at the Switchboard for Astoria? Is that why you didn’t want to ask in front of her?”

“No, actually, I’m telling them they have to pay her more. Five hundred is nothing for how much work she’s put into that. I’m going to say it’s five hundred per term, or I’ll walk.”

“Astoria is going to murder you for that.”

“I know. This is—well, I just thought if the Harpies are as desperate to have me as Astoria thinks, I might as well use that money to do something better than just sitting in a vault collecting dust.”

“It’s incredibly thoughtful of you, Ginny. And smart. She’s stubborn as all hell and won’t take any of my money, but I can’t see her saying no to being paid more for her labour.”

“Yeah, I thought for a very brief moment that I could help her if I’m going to be absurdly rich now, but I thought it’d be a bit hypocritical of me after, you know… It’s still kind of sketchy, but they’re not paying her enough, so she’ll get over it.” 

Rhianna shook her head, grinning, but she didn’t say anything else.

In the silence, Ginny fidgeted awkwardly. Her eyes wandered to a drawing hanging on the wall above Rhianna’s bed. It featured a unicorn with a rainbow mane and tail flowing in the wind, and ornate, looping calligraphy underneath spelled out Rhianna’s name. Astoria had made it for Rhianna back when the two first became friends. “Oh, bloody hell, it’s a _gay_ unicorn, isn’t it?” Ginny asked.

Rhianna followed Ginny’s gaze and laughed. “Yeah, I was mortified when you asked me about it. I was so sure you were going to figure it out.”

“You’ve known about Astoria for ages, haven’t you?” Ginny wasn’t entirely sure what she was really asking. Rhianna and Astoria had been best friends ever since they’d met during Ginny’s third year. Rhianna had sworn it was fate, and Ginny had sworn she was out of her bloody mind and ignored everything Rhianna had to say about Astoria.

“As long as we’ve been friends, really. Why?” 

“I don’t know. Just… curious, I guess.” Something unpleasant twisted in Ginny’s stomach. She stared at the loops of Astoria’s calligraphy and the sparkling heart she’d drawn in place of the dot on the i. _Rhianna._

“She wasn’t keeping it from you, Ginny.”

“Yeah, she said.” Ginny knew Rhianna was trying to be nice, but she felt anger bubbling up inside herself anyway.

“It’s just awkward to bring up randomly.”

“I know.” 

“She wanted to tell you. She just worried you’d, you know—”

“Be a twat. Got it.” Rhianna was open-minded and kind; of course Astoria trusted her more than stubborn, close-minded Ginny. Rhianna had given Astoria a chance while Ginny dug in her heels and told Rhianna she was mad.

“I was going to say beat yourself up.”

“You mean make it about me? Yeah, guess she was right.” 

Rhianna frowned. “Did something happen between you two?”

Ginny’s mind flashed through the past twenty-four hours. The feeling of Astoria’s skin under Ginny’s fingers, Astoria’s laughter filling the evening air, a deep breath full of Astoria this morning. _I love you too._ “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You sound like it’s not fine.”

 _Did you want it to mean something?_ Ginny’s throat felt tight. She felt stupid. None of it had meant anything. Astoria had just been humouring Ginny’s temporary madness. 

“Ginny,” Rhianna said gently. She reached out to touch Ginny’s hand, but Ginny jerked away. “Sorry.”

Ginny didn’t want to look at her. Ginny hated her right now, and she knew it wasn’t fair. Rhianna had earned Astoria’s love and trust fair and square, and if it weren’t for Rhianna, Ginny wouldn’t even be friends with Astoria to begin with. But Rhianna could wake up with Astoria whenever she wanted. She knew the things Astoria didn’t talk about, the topics that felt like walking on eggshells for Ginny. All Rhianna had to do was be herself, and Astoria adored her and trusted her with everything. 

“I should go,” Ginny said. She stood up, determined not to look at Rhianna, determined not to lash out at her friend for no good reason. 

“Okay. If you want to talk later, I’m here.” 

Ginny nodded and left without a second glance back at Rhianna. She stopped at the top of the stairs, trying to calm herself down. She was being dramatic, and it was probably just residual stress from introducing Astoria to her family. Nothing had happened, and there was no reason for her to suddenly get worked up.

Ginny took a deep breath and walked quietly down the stairs.

“...just get back with Potter in like a week,” Astoria was saying. Ginny froze, just outside the doorway. “It sucks, but I’m used to it, and it’s not like I really expected she’d go from deep in denial to actually wanting to be together in the span of a day. That’s Disney shit, and my life is definitely not a Disney film.” Astoria laughed. “Need more sea creatures telling her to kiss me for that.”

“I’m sure Eleri could manage something,” Ms. Owens said. It sounded like a joke. 

Astoria laughed again and then started singing, “ _Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh my, looks like the girl’s too shy, ain’t gonna kiss the girl…_ ”

“Your singing is shit, Astoria,” Rhianna said. 

Ginny nearly leapt out of her skin as Rhianna walked straight past her into the living room. She hadn’t heard her come down the stairs, but Rhianna had almost certainly seen Ginny eavesdropping. Ginny swore under her breath and then hurried in after Rhianna, trying to act like she hadn’t overheard anything. She’d probably misunderstood anyway. Astoria couldn’t have been talking about her. 

“Oh, hey, Rhianna, have you kissed the girl yet?” Astoria asked. She was sitting upside down on the sofa, feet where her head should be, head hanging off the edge of the seat, a wicked grin on her face. “ _Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain’t it sad. It’s such a shame, too bad; you’re gonna miss the girl._ ”

“Ginny told me,” Rhianna said.

Astoria fell off the sofa abruptly. “What?” she said, voice high. The colour had drained from her face.

“About the Harpies. It’s great, isn’t it?” 

“Brilliant.” Astoria’s eyes narrowed. The two of them seemed to be having an entirely different conversation with their eyes, and Ginny had a strong suspicion it had nothing to do with the Harpies. 

“Oh, right, the reason I came back down though.” Rhianna turned to Ginny, blocking Astoria’s view, and slipped a small card into Ginny’s hand.

“Oh,” Ginny said, looking down at it. It had the contact information for the London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard. Ginny pocketed it.

“Thought you might need that.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Anyway, congrats again, Ginny.” Rhianna hugged her and whispered, “Tell me when you’re not busy with quidditch so we can talk properly, okay?” Then Rhianna let go without waiting for an answer. “Good luck.”

“Congratulations, Ginny,” Ms. Owens said. 

“Thanks,” Ginny said again. 

Astoria pulled herself up off the floor. “Right, time to go. Ready, Ginny?”

“Yeah.”

Astoria gave Ms. Owens and Rhianna quick hugs. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“You’re not even working late,” Rhianna said, “but nice try. I’m picking you up.”

Astoria rolled her eyes, but she waved Ginny out and followed.

“Rhianna give you a good luck charm?” Astoria asked when they stepped out the front door.

“No.” Ginny showed her the card. “Ron.”

Astoria looked at Ginny, questions in her eyes as always, but she smiled. Ginny put a hand on her shoulder, and then they were gone.


	25. Like a movie scene in the sweetest dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: (magical) chest binding, "gay" used as a noun (self-referentially), mention of/sort of implied transphobia

> Tuesday, 31 August 1999. The Owens’ House.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Rhianna said when she opened the door to let Ginny in. She was undoing thin plaits in her hair, leaving her hair in small, tight waves. “You can tell Astoria this isn’t optional.” She gave Ginny a quick hug and nodded toward the stairs. “She somehow thinks we’re just going to go without her if she promises to come later.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, and happy birthday, Ginny.” 

“Thanks,” Ginny said. “Is Dennis—”

“GINNY!” Dennis shrieked from the top of the stairs. Then, in one running bound, he leapt from the top of the stairs, slid down the railing with his hands, landed ungracefully on his arse only halfway down, and tumbled the rest of the way. “Ow… ASTORIA!” he shouted up the stairs. “I’M DEAD! HELP!” He looked at Ginny and grinned. “Happy birthday! I’d get up to hug you, but my mortal peril is important for convincing Crankyhead to leave her cave.” Then, without so much as a warning, he screamed again, “ASTORIA! I BROKE MY ARSE! COME KISS IT AND MAKE IT BETTER!”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll work,” Rhianna said. 

“I swear to all known deities, Dennis,” Astoria called irritably from upstairs, “if you are not actually dying—” Astoria stopped suddenly, now standing at the top of the stairs, eyes on Ginny. Her scowl was replaced by a smile, and Ginny’s stomach fluttered. “Oh, hey, Ginny. Happy birthday.” Astoria hurried down the stairs.

“Forget Ginny,” Dennis cried. “My precious _arse_ is injured, Astoria!”

Astoria stepped over Dennis unceremoniously and gave Ginny a hug. “I thought you were going with Ron and Hermione,” Astoria said. She shot a dark look at Rhianna, who had clearly not told Astoria that Ginny was coming with them.

“Ron and Harry made up, apparently,” Ginny said, “so they’re going with Harry.” 

“Priorities, Astoria!” Dennis called again.

Astoria groaned, rolled her eyes, and knelt down beside Dennis. “Where does it hurt?” she asked dryly.

Dennis rolled over and stuck his arse up toward Astoria’s face. “I told you: my arse.”

Astoria pulled out her wand and cast a quick healing charm. “There, all better.”

“No, you’re supposed to kiss my arse.” Dennis rolled and sat on the stairs, grinning proudly at Astoria. 

Astoria shoved a hand into Dennis’ hair, mussed it, and pushed him backward. “You wish.” Then she slipped past him and headed back up the stairs.

“You better be going up to get ready,” Rhianna called after her.

“I’m going to finish this bloody essay,” Astoria said without looking back. 

Rhianna folded her arms across her chest, glaring up the stairs after Astoria.

“Happy birthday, Ginny!” Dennis said brightly. He flung his arms around Ginny and gave her a tight hug.

“Thanks,” Ginny said. She looked back at Rhianna. “Is she refusing to come?” Tonight was Susan Bones’ annual end-of-summer party. Rhianna was determined to drag Astoria along this year after Astoria had (somewhat reasonably, given post-war tensions were still high) refused the summer before. 

“She’s insistent that she needs to finish that essay first and wants us to go without her,” Rhianna said. “She’s trying to avoid it. I had to rope Phil into not letting her work. He tried to talk his way into coming too, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, he told her he won’t let her work at all next summer if she tried going to work, but now she’s just doing schoolwork to get out of it. You know if we don’t drag her there, she won’t come and just say she was too tired when she finished.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Ginny said. She stepped past Rhianna and Dennis and went up the stairs. Ginny was less convinced that dragging Astoria to a party she clearly didn’t want to go to was a good idea, but Rhianna was not going to give up. The least she could do was help get Astoria out of it.

Astoria was sitting at her desk, books and parchment spread out in front of her. “How was your birthday party?” Astoria said without looking up from her work. “Sorry I couldn’t make it.” 

Ginny sat down on Astoria’s bed. “It was good,” she said. “I wish you could have come. You missed Alexis talking shit about Slytherin. She swears Gryffindor is getting the Quidditch Cup this year.” Alexis, the Gryffindor Keeper, was taking over as Captain this year, and she was determined to beat Astoria. And win the Cup, but Alexis’ first priority was definitely destroying Slytherin.

Astoria laughed. “Good. I can’t wait to see her face when we beat Gryffindor again.”

“Going to single-handedly take down the entire Gryffindor team again?”

“I’m not telling you my plans.” Astoria looked up for a moment to grin at Ginny. “All I’ll say is she’s going to absolutely hate me come November.” 

“Remind me when the match is coming up. My quidditch colours are green now, you know.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “Alexis will kill you.” Then she returned to her work. “I expect green and silver if you’re going to come cheer for Slytherin though. None of that Harpy yellow crap.”

“I’ll make a Slytherin banner even.”

“She’s going to hex you all the way to Madagascar.”

“Perfect.” Ginny did actually want Gryffindor to do well, both out of a sense of house pride and for Alexis’ sake, but that didn’t mean she would pass up the chance to cheer for Astoria’s team for once. 

Astoria apparently had nothing else to say to that and continued working on her essay in silence.

“Rhianna thinks you’re trying to get out of coming to the party tonight,” Ginny said. No sense beating around the bush.

Astoria sighed, put her pen down, and looked at Ginny again. “Are you here to tell me I should go to a party because I’m sad and boring and going to parties I’m not really invited to is the key to not being sad and boring?”

“You’re invited. It’s a Dumbledore’s Army party, Astoria. And anyway, I know for a fact Susan said you were invited.”

“Blah blah, I belong, everyone loves me, and it’ll be so much fun to make the people I actually like all stressed out while they shield me from everyone else who thinks I don’t belong.”

Ginny frowned. “You really don’t want to go.”

“Of course not, and I’ve still got this bloody essay to finish for Sprout.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell Rhianna and Dennis to go on ahead, and we’ll come when you’re ready and just not mention that that’ll be never.” As much as Ginny had been looking forward to seeing (almost) everyone, especially given how little free time she now had with quidditch, most of her other friends weren’t moving all the way to Scotland tomorrow.

“What about you?”

Ginny shrugged. “I don’t mind missing it. It’s not a big deal. Or I can just go in a bit without you. Just need a plan for how I make sure Rhianna doesn’t just come and drag you out herself when she realises I’ve betrayed her.”

“I’ve got some Polyjuice Potion. You could go as me and say Ginny decided not to come.”

“Why do you—you know what? I don’t want to know why you have polyjuice. And no, I am not pretending to be you. There’s no way I’d make a convincing Astoria.”

Astoria laughed. “I know. You’d be terrible at it.” Astoria took a deep breath and looked at her books. “All right. I’ll go.” She started closing her books.

“Wait, what?”

“I can make the Prefects patrol the train without me for a bit and get the rest done on the way tomorrow. Patrolling the train is stupid anyway.”

“You don’t have to go, Astoria. I really don’t care if you just want to skip so you can sleep or something. I can cover for you.”

“I appreciate the offer, Ginny, but it’s really fine. If it sucks, I’ll just go home. I can use my essay as an excuse just as well once I’m there.”

“I really didn’t come here to trick you into coming.”

“I know.” Astoria put the last of her school things away and walked to her closet. “What are you wearing to this thing?” She glanced back at Ginny, who felt suddenly self-conscious and underdressed. “Casual? I can do casual.”

“No, I’m just lazy. Rhianna’s doing her hair and everything.”

Astoria laughed as she searched through her closet. “Oh, is Pansy coming then?”

“If she is, you definitely won’t be the least popular person there.”

“I knew Pansy had to be good for something. Anyway, what’s my angle here? Simple and unassuming and hope people just leave me alone? Go for something sexy and play up the stereotype so we can see how many of your friends secretly fantasise about doing a blood supremacist just like Rhianna?” 

“I think I’d rather not know that.”

“Good call. Probably way too many. It’s like everyone forgets that bad people are called _bad_ for a reason.”

Ginny laughed. “Yeah, your dating history is just full of angels, isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean.” She pulled out a light, summer dress and held it up in front of herself for Ginny to see. “Olivia Newton-John?” Then she grabbed a tight, black jumpsuit and held it up. “Or Olivia Newton-John?”

“Sounds like this Olivia is the one for you.”

“With how obsessed your dad is with muggles, it truly amazes me how little you know about muggle culture, Ginny. Olivia Newton-John is an actress.”

“With range, apparently.”

“Yeah, that’s the joke. She was Sandy in _Grease_ , and Sandy is a total good girl, but she falls for a bad boy. She redoes her whole look to be a bad girl just for him. It’d be gross, except he goes all good boy for her, so, you know, love.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “It’s cheesy, and I’ve never seen Rhianna’s terrible tastes more represented in a film, but the music is good.”

“You really don’t like the idea of her and Parkinson, do you?”

Astoria groaned. “Rhianna has been coming home from work giggling, and she at least admits it’s a girl, but she insists it’s just ‘some girl’ as if she thinks I’m stupid. I know her. She’s not sly. Pansy keeps coming to that bloody bookshop for some reason, and Rhianna is flirting with her as if that’s not the worst idea ever.”

“I saw them the other day. Rhianna got giggly and ran off, and I saw her talking to Parkinson.”

“Bloody hell. I knew it was her.”

“Rhianna said Parkinson’s been asking her for book recommendations.”

Astoria made a small sound of disapproval. “Rhianna is playing with fire. Pansy is a bad person. There’s just no way that doesn’t end in tears. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Didn’t you offer to set them up?”

“Yeah, when I thought there was no way Pansy would actually go for it.”

“You think Pansy might actually fancy her?”

“I don’t know what Pansy is up to, but I’ve known her my whole life. There’s no way she just _happens_ to be talking to Rhianna that much. She knows she’s one step short of muggle-born, and she probably knows she’s my friend. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just trying to get dirt on Rhianna to out her for no reason except that she’s a terrible person and deep, deep in the closet.”

“What if Parkinson just actually fancies her? Rhianna’s pretty easy to like.”

Astoria frowned. “I want Rhianna to be happy. I’d like to believe Pansy isn’t up to something, and if Pansy somehow makes her happy, great. I just don’t trust Pansy, and I’m worried Rhianna is too caught up in the cliché fantasy of the bad girl to notice that, unlike stories, bad people are usually just bad people.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t see the appeal either, but Rhianna seems to really like her.”

Astoria sighed. “I know. That’s what worries me. Pansy could absolutely break her heart.” She shook herself and looked back in her closet. “What was Dennis wearing?”

“Er—”

But Astoria tossed her clothes back in her closet and turned her head toward the bedroom door. “Dennis!” she called. “Come dress me!”

It took Dennis all of two seconds to bound into the room past Astoria and start flinging her clothes out of the closet. “Nope,” he said as he flung clothing. “Definitely not. Not your colour. Too boring. Too Death Eater. What are you, fifty?” He held up a long, turtleneck dress before flinging it at Astoria’s face.

“I’m sure it’s necessary to make my room look like a twister came through,” Astoria said.

“Ooh! I forgot you had this!” Dennis grabbed Astoria’s wrist and dragged her right in front of Ginny. “What do you think, Ginny? Astoria, help me. I can’t do magic.” He held up a pale blue button down (Astoria sighed and got it to stay floating in front of her) and threw over a deep blue waistcoat with a silver floral pattern. 

“I know what you’re up to,” Astoria told Dennis. Astoria shook her head and smiled at Ginny, as if saying she knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she gave Dennis free reign over her attire. Dennis, meanwhile, was tossing more things from her closet, probably in search of trousers for Astoria to wear.

“Not only are you actually coming,” Rhianna said, leaning in the doorway, “but you’ve enlisted Dennis to dress you? I’m impressed, Astoria.”

“Oh, no, I’m making Dennis change,” Astoria said. 

Dennis froze. “What?” he said, eyes wide.

“Go on, finish dressing me, or am I just going in my pants?”

Dennis sniggered. “What do you think, Ginny? Should Astoria just go in her pants? Maybe skip the shirt too. Waistcoat and pants.”

Ginny felt her face redden at the all too vivid mental image of Astoria in just the waistcoat and her pants. “Astoria should probably wear proper clothes,” Ginny said, doing a terrible job of keeping her voice even. She looked anywhere but Astoria, but that just led her to Rhianna, which was hardly any better. Rhianna was clearly stifling laughter at Ginny’s red face.

“Here,” Dennis said. “Skirt?” He held up a short, tight skirt that matched the waistcoat. “Or shorts?” He held up a pair of shorts with the same colour, but longer.

“I can just—” Astoria started, but Dennis waved her away.

“I’m asking Ginny,” Dennis said. 

“Er, whatever is more comfortable,” Ginny said. Both options seemed fine.

“Gimme those,” Astoria said, grabbing the shorts. “Now go pick something better for yourself, Dennis.”

“Hold on,” Dennis said. “Ginny, what do you think?”

“I think it looks, er, good?” Ginny said. She wasn’t sure why it mattered; Astoria should just wear something she felt comfortable wearing. And Ginny was pretty sure, based on how she’d felt since arriving, that she at least was going to think Astoria looked good no matter what she wore.

“Just good?”

“Lay off her, Dennis,” Rhianna said. “Astoria, go put your clothes on so we can leave.”

It took a bit more bickering, but eventually, Astoria left to change. Dennis dug through Astoria’s closet for something else to wear, and Ginny helped Rhianna clean up the mess Dennis had made of Astoria’s room. 

“Ooooh, sexy,” Dennis said when Astoria walked back in. 

Dennis was definitely right, Ginny thought. The floral pattern on Astoria’s waistcoat was alive now, slowly blooming in a loop that reminded Ginny of the strange fluttering feeling in her own stomach. Her chest was flat and smooth like a man’s, but it seemed to suit her somehow. Ginny felt an urge to reach out and touch her, to investigate how Astoria had done it. Ginny reminded herself it was probably an illusion, so she’d just be awkwardly grabbing her friend’s boobs, so she shook the thought. 

Astoria looked good, and Ginny briefly considered how unfair it was that Astoria could look good in a dress and heels, in casual quidditch clothes, in a waistcoat, in anything. Tonight though, she looked especially good. There were definitely going to be eyes on Astoria, and not just because, well, the war. 

“Oh, shut up,” Astoria told Dennis.

“Astoria,” Rhianna said, a light scolding in her voice. 

“What?” Astoria said.

Rhianna gave her a look that said Astoria knew exactly what.

“I’m fine, mum.” Astoria rolled her eyes.

Rhianna sighed and turned Astoria away. They whispered sharply while Ginny’s eyes followed the smooth lines of Astoria’s waistcoat down to her arse. School robes did not do Astoria’s body justice, but those shorts sure did. Ginny felt a sudden urge to make Astoria put on something else, more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of any of her old school friends staring at Astoria’s fit arse. Ginny pulled her eyes away and stared at Astoria’s desk instead.

Rhianna relented after a minute, looking entirely sure she hadn’t liked whatever Astoria had to say. Dennis got Astoria’s okay to change into what he’d picked out. Then, the two of them left so Astoria could adjust the clothes to actually fit Dennis, who was definitely too tall for the jeans he’d grabbed.

“What was that about?” Ginny asked Rhianna.

“Nothing,” Rhianna said. “Astoria’s just being difficult.”

“Because she didn’t want to come?”

“No, she’s just, er—look, it’s nothing. She’s fine. She’s just being… Astoria. I don’t ‘get’ it, so I don’t have a say.” Rhianna shook her head. “She thinks she’s fine, and I think she’s going to hurt herself, messing around with complex magic she only barely understands.”

“If anyone can handle complex magic, my gold is on Astoria.”

Rhianna sighed. “Yeah. Whatever. I just worry.”

It occurred to Ginny that, as much as Ginny was dreading Astoria leaving tomorrow morning, Rhianna and Astoria had to be dreading it so much more. They’d been a constant in each other’s lives for years, and for the first time, they wouldn’t be together. Even though Astoria would be back for Christmas and Easter, it was still a whole year that their lives would be on opposite ends of Britain. No wonder they were both trying to micromanage each other.

“She’s going to be okay, Rhianna,” Ginny said. “She’s got Dennis.”

Rhianna laughed, but before she could say anything, Dennis and Astoria walked back in, arm in arm, grinning. Dennis was now wearing a tight pair of jeans and a maroon blouse. He had small, fluttering butterfly clips in his hair, which was now back down to his shoulders, as he usually kept it. Astoria must have grown it back out for him.

“Ready?” Dennis said brightly.

“You’re really going in Astoria’s clothes?” Ginny asked uncertainly. Dennis looked cute, but it felt like an inside joke she wasn’t in on. She had a bad feeling other people might not be very kind about it.

“Can’t let Astoria have all the attention.” Dennis flipped his hair and flashed a wide grin. Well, at least he knew what he was in for.

“C’mon, it’s not a party until the Death Eater shows up,” Astoria said.

“It’s not a party until the _gays_ show up,” Dennis corrected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If tomorrow night/Wednesday morning really sucks, y'all (those who are eligible to do so, PLEASE GO VOTE), I'll probably post ~something~ as a distraction, probably as a one-off. So if it sucks, and you want something to read, look out for that. It miiiight be a little side story for this fic or flashback or idk what, still debating, but I'm writing!
> 
> Also happy NaNoWriMo! :D


	26. Not a question but a lesson learned in time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: brief mention of substance use (not explicitly drugs, but could be interpreted as such—it’s magic)

Susan Bones hugged them all when she let them in, and then she waved them to the back garden where the party was. She pointed out where all the important things were—drinks, food, an assortment of potions and sweets with a mix of silly or mood-altering effects, the loo, and a small stage she’d had built at Michael’s insistence so his band could play. Susan was gracious enough not to point Harry out to Ginny, but Ginny found him anyway, sitting under a cluster of floating fairy lights with Ron and Hermione. She took a deep breath.

There were definitely eyes on them, which Ginny supposed was to be expected. Dennis was wearing Astoria’s clothes and making every effort to swish his hips as he walked. Astoria was, well, Astoria, and she had a complicated relationship with the rest of Dumbledore’s Army. Even without the whole “once pretended to be a Death Eater for an entire year” thing, those shorts were hugging her arse, and her waistcoat practically begged you to run your hands all over the smooth lines of her body. Even Ginny could hardly resist staring. And then there was Ginny, who had spent recent weeks as a near-constant feature in _The Daily Prophet_ : her break-up with the Chosen One, signing with the Harpies (a disappointing career choice, according to one article, as she apparently should have wanted to be an Auror), and of course the donation to the Switchboard. It would have been weird if no one was looking at them. 

Rhianna found Neville and led them all over before anyone at the party could make a scene. He was chatting with Ernie MacMillan about some kind of plant that sang when the flowers opened, and he hugged each of them enthusiastically. Ernie hugged Rhianna, did a weird nod-grunt to Dennis (ignoring Dennis’ offered hand), awkwardly shook hands with Ginny, and skipped any kind of hello with Astoria. 

“So you’re like reformed or whatever now?” Ernie asked her while he surreptitiously wiped his hand on his trousers. Ginny watched his eyes wander slowly down Astoria’s body, not at all hiding his disapproval, and Ginny felt an urge to break his nose.

“Something like that,” Astoria said before the others could butt in. “How’s work, Neville?”

As Neville jumped in to steer the conversation away, Ginny slipped her hand in Astoria’s and squeezed. Ernie saw, and his eyes narrowed. Ginny glared back, but he didn’t say anything. He surprised Ginny by staying and talking with them for a bit, but he eventually excused himself to get a drink and didn’t return. Dennis disappeared to talk to some of his friends not longer after.

Astoria was midway through a story about an irate customer at the sandwich shop when Parvati crept up behind Astoria, finger pressed to her lips. Ginny looked at Rhianna, bewildered and concerned because she was pretty sure Parvati hated Astoria, but Rhianna put a hand on Ginny’s wrist, holding her off. Parvati held up her hand, counting down, grinning conspiratorially. Three… two… one… 

Parvati put her hands on Astoria’s shoulders and leapt on her back. She swung her legs around Astoria’s waist, threw one arm around her neck, and covered Astoria’s eyes with the other. Astoria stumbled forward but caught herself and Parvati. Before Astoria could do anything else, Parvati pulled Astoria’s collar out of the way and pressed her lips into the base of Astoria’s neck. Astoria gasped and nearly dropped her. 

“Merlin’s sagging tits!” Astoria said, eyes wide and cheeks pink.

Parvati pulled her face away, howling with laughter, and then slipped off Astoria.

“Parvati?” Astoria said, jaw on the floor. She flung her arms around Parvati, practically tackling her as they stumbled, and squeezed her tight. “Bloody hell, Parvati, what are you doing here?” Astoria pulled back, but she left her hands on Parvati’s upper arms, and Parvati held her waist. Ginny decided she didn’t like Parvati at all anymore. “When did you get back? Bloody hell, Parvati!” 

“Like the lipstick?” Parvati said, waggling her eyebrows. She puckered her lips, and Ginny considered cursing them off her face. 

“Christ, is that what that was? It went all the way to my toes.”

“Got it at a boutique in Marseille. The charm doesn’t last very long, but…” She whispered the rest of her sentence in Astoria’s ear. 

Astoria laughed. “You want to say that louder?”

Parvati rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I got back this weekend.” Parvati flicked her hair over her shoulder like some pretentious idiot. “Been catching up with family and all that. Rhianna said she was going to drag you here, so I figured I’d wait and surprise you.” She looked Astoria up and down and bit her lip. “Can we talk about how fucking good you look though?” Ginny did not like the way Parvati was looking at Astoria at all, much less Astoria’s bright red, grinning face. “Ginny, you’re down with the gays now.” Parvati spun Astoria around to face Ginny, hands still on Astoria’s waist. “Be honest: you’d go gay for this, wouldn’t you?”

“Parvati!” Astoria shrieked, squirming away and swatting without much force at Parvati. 

“Leave her alone,” Ginny told Parvati, face burning. 

Parvati crossed her arms and smirked at Ginny. “Well, that’s clearly a yes.” Ginny had always gotten on well with Parvati, but she really wanted to curse her right now.

Astoria smacked Parvati’s arm. “Parvati,” she moaned.

“How’s France, Parvati?” Rhianna said, a rather obvious attempt to redirect the conversation. Parvati had moved to Paris last summer to study fashion and clothing design, and Ginny currently wished she’d stayed there.

“Good,” Parvati said. “Really good. I’m considering doing a year in Berlin or maybe New York though. Once I finish here, I mean.”

“What are you doing here?” Neville asked. “Do you have work?” 

“Quidditch kits, weirdly enough.” Parvati glanced at Astoria and grinned. “Thanks for that, Astoria.”

“Wait, really?” Astoria said. Her face lit up. “The Harpies?”

“Yeah, they hired me to design the kits for the Academy. Someone put in a good word.” She winked at Astoria.

“You didn’t tell me!” Astoria shoved her playfully.

“Surprise!” Parvati sent a burst of confetti into the air with her wand.

“Are they done? Can I see them?”

“No, you cannot see them. I do want to show you some other stuff later though. Do you want to model for me?” A mental image of Astoria modeling lingerie for Parvati flashed into Ginny’s mind, and it did nothing to calm her.

“Fuck yes. The designs you’ve sent me?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you done quidditch kits before?” Rhianna asked, another redirection. At least Rhianna seemed to want to stop them blatantly flirting right in their faces.

“No,” Parvati said, “but I’ve been working with another designer who has. At this point we’re doing final touches, production, and then I think we have a fair bit of press we’re going to be involved in.” She glanced at Astoria. “I hope you’re ready for a lot of photoshoots.”

“Are you coming for it?” Astoria asked. 

“Yeah, they want me there. Optics and all that.”

Astoria nodded as if she understood exactly what the optics of having Parvati at a photoshoot for the new Holyhead Harpies Youth Academy were. “Well, it’ll be good to see you anyway.” 

“Oh, speaking of the Harpies,” Parvati said, turning her attention to Ginny, “congrats, Ginny.” 

Ginny was caught off-guard, too busy hating Parvati to figure out why she was being congratulated. “What?” she said stupidly.

“You’re a professional quidditch player now. Congratulations.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Thanks.” Ginny considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she was being unfair to Parvati. Reckless gut and all that.

“Total power move with the donation, by the way. I know _The Prophet_ has been taking the piss, but I think it’s cool. I figured you’d do something like that, but I was expecting war relief or something, to be honest.”

“I told her to be greedy,” Astoria said, “and instead she goes and does that.” Astoria shook her head, but she was smiling at Ginny, a warmth in her eyes that made Ginny’s stomach flutter again and everyone else disappear for a moment. 

“I didn’t even know anything like that existed,” Neville said. “Even without the money, there’s probably at least one person who needs something like that who now knows it’s out there.” That only served to intensify the look Astoria was giving Ginny, and Ginny looked away before her knees gave out. 

“It was all Ginny’s idea,” Rhianna said. 

“Well, it was brilliant,” Parvati said. 

Ginny probably shouldn’t hate her. Sure, she’d had her hands all over Astoria, but she didn’t now, and anyway, touching Astoria was not a criminal offense. If Astoria didn’t mind, Ginny shouldn’t either.

Ginny took a breath. “Thanks,” she said.

“Anyway, I haven’t seen anyone in like a year,” Parvati said, “so I’m going to go float around for a bit, but I’ll catch you lot later. I just wanted to scare the shit out of Astoria before she realised I was here.” She pushed Astoria’s shoulder gently, and then, with some quick goodbyes, disappeared.

“When did she stop trying to kill you?” Ginny asked Astoria, trying not to sound angry about it. Parvati, along with several others, had attacked Astoria on sight at Colin’s funeral and only stopped when his parents physically shielded her. Seeing them act like they’d been friends for years was jarring, even if, rationally, Ginny figured she should be relieved to have one more person who believed Astoria.

“Oh,” Astoria said. “I don’t know. September? She sent me an owl out of the blue apologising for everything.” Astoria shrugged. “We’ve been writing back and forth and talking by floo for the last year. Turns out we have a lot in common.”

“I’m glad she’s doing better,” Neville said. 

“Yeah, France has been good for her.”

Ginny decided talking about Parvati was not her idea of fun. She hated the way Astoria was smiling, and she hated that she hated it. “I think I’m going to go find Ron and Hermione,” Ginny said.

“Do you want—?” Astoria started to ask.

“No, it’s fine,” Ginny said. Yes, they were probably still talking to Harry. No, Ginny didn’t want Astoria coming along for moral support. Astoria made her feel… well, Ginny didn’t really know what, but it wasn’t helping at all right now. Astoria left Ginny with far more questions than answers. She needed to face Harry without the added stress and confusion of all of that. 

And Ginny was in the mood for answers, so she said goodbye to her friends and wandered off to find Ron and Hermione and, ugh, Harry.

“Hey,” Ginny said awkwardly, hovering even more awkwardly a few steps away from being actually in their little circle.

“Ginny!” Hermione said brightly. “Come, sit.” She summoned a nearby stump and waved for Ginny to sit on it. “Where are Rhianna and the others?”

Ginny sat down, scooting the stump a little closer to Ron and Hermione and away from Harry. He might not want her that close to him, after all. “Probably still talking to Neville,” she said. Her eyes flickered over to Harry, subconsciously checking if he was going to react weirdly about Astoria, but she caught herself and looked away immediately.

“Hi, Ginny,” Harry said, sounding just as self-conscious as Ginny felt. “Er, happy birthday.” Ginny chanced a glance at him again, and he made a face that was probably meant to be a smile but looked more like a grimace.

“Thanks.” Ginny took a deep breath. “Sorry. I can go. It’s fine.” She stood up, but Harry put his hand on her arm. She looked at his hand, and he immediately jerked it away.

“Sorry,” he said. “No. Stay.” Then, sounding as if it was the last thing in the world he wanted to admit, he added: “I miss you.”

Ginny sat back down and glanced at Ron and Hermione, who both gave tentative, encouraging smiles. Yep, this was super awkward. Why had Ginny thought this was going to be any better than the swirling mess of feeling she had around Astoria?

“I, er, got you something,” Harry said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, messily wrapped in glittery paper. “I promise it’s not another stupid—well, it’s probably kind of stupid, but, you know…” He trailed off and shrugged. 

Apprehensive, Ginny tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside was the tiniest broom she’d ever seen, barely three inches long. “Thanks, Harry,” she said. 

“It’s a finger broom. Look.” He held out his hand, and Ginny handed him the broom. He put it in his left palm and put two fingers on the broom with the other. Then he moved his right hand around, and the broom followed. “Whoosh!” he said, adding sound effects as his fingers rode the broom around.

Ginny couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her chest. Not that she didn’t want to laugh, but she certainly hadn’t expected to be laughing with Harry.

“It’s really stupid,” Harry said, handing it back to her.

Ginny got her fingers on the broom and rode it around, laughing some more. “It is incredibly stupid,” she said. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Figure that’s a better birthday gift than, you know…”

“Yeah.” Ginny had no interest in bringing up their fight again. 

“And it’s your congratulations gift too. That’s all you’re getting.”

Ginny laughed again and felt some of the tension leave her body. “I miss you too, Harry,” she said. “And thanks.”

“Great,” Ron said. “Now that you two are done being awkward…” Then he launched into a joke that he had apparently been telling Harry and Hermione before Ginny came by. It was incredibly stupid and not funny at all, but Ginny laughed anyway. She was just relieved to not be fighting with Harry. They hadn’t spoken since their fight (Quidditch had kept Ginny plenty busy), so she hadn’t really known what to expect. 

Ron and Hermione did a good job of steering the conversation, keeping things light and relaxed. Ginny suspected it was for Ron’s sake as much as hers. Ron hadn’t really explained why he had been so angry with Harry. He claimed he was angry over how Harry had treated Ginny, but Ginny got the sense that it wasn’t just familial loyalty that had fuelled his anger. Ginny was a convenient excuse for some deeper anger and resentment that Ron didn’t seem able or willing to vocalise. She doubted they’d actually worked out whatever it was, but they were getting on just fine now anyway.

After a bit, they were joined by Dean and Seamus, who dragged them into the heart of the party, and whatever quietly whispering tensions still lingered were soon pushed away by festivity and laughter. Last summer, this same party had felt like a desperate attempt to reclaim joy amidst all of the loss and pain they’d all suffered in the war. This year, it was more of a celebration of normalcy, the wonderful boringness of their now comparatively mundane lives. 

The party was easily twice as big this year. Last year, it was just the remains of Dumbledore’s Army, and even of those still in the country, plenty had skipped coming, the pain still too raw to want to celebrate anything. This year, even some of those who had moved away, like Parvati, had come back, and others brought their boyfriends, girlfriends, coworkers, or other friends. 

Ginny floated through the party, catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. They congratulated her on the Harpies and avoided mentioning Harry. Some brought up _The Prophet_ ’s report that she had negotiated for the Harpies to donate to the Switchboard as part of her contract, with a mix of uneasy support and questions, but most people didn’t bring it up at all. Those who did ask got the same answer she’d given when pestered by journalists: she opposed discrimination and hate in all its forms, and that included gay people. End of story. Find something better to make a fuss about. 

As she floated, Ginny’s eyes kept finding Harry and Astoria. She was worried about Astoria, but every time Ginny looked at her, she was smiling and laughing and not at all in need of a bodyguard. And she kept catching Harry’s eye, and Ginny couldn’t figure out what their awkward smiling was about. Were they friends now? Was that what he wanted? Was that what she wanted? 

Eventually, Ginny got fed up with asking herself questions and, when the opportunity arose, she nodded for Harry to follow her and slipped away into the house in search of a quiet room. They found a bedroom (probably Susan’s, judging by the decor), and Ginny locked the door and cast the usual privacy charms. Harry sat down uncertainly on the foot of the bed, and Ginny conjured herself a chair a couple feet away.

“Hey,” Harry said. He offered a weak smile.

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “Hey.” 

“I was hoping to talk to you, but, er, if you want to go first…”

Ginny shook her head. “No, go ahead.” She didn’t really know what she even wanted to say. She wanted to know how she felt, and that didn’t seem like something she could just talk herself through right now. 

“Okay.” Harry took a deep breath. “Ginny, I’m really sorry. About… a lot of things.” He frowned. “I don’t know if you want to hear this right now, so I’ll just…” Harry sighed. “I can leave it at that if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, Harry.” Ginny was surprised to find she meant it. “I can listen.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, look, I was arse. I think we’ve both had a lot going on, and we’ve both been pretty shit to each other, but whatever you did, that doesn’t mean I should be an arse back.” 

Harry looked at her like he was waiting for her to argue back, so Ginny just said, “Yeah.” Yes, she had been pretty shit to him too. 

Another big sigh. “I should have listened to you about the money stuff. It was just hard because, you know, sometimes you seemed happy about that sort of thing, and then _The Prophet_ would run some rubbish, and you’d flip out at me. And before you say anything, I get it. I _should_ get it. They’ve been running rubbish about me my whole life. I don’t want to let them control me, so any time you got upset about something they said, I just wanted to dig in and fight back, but I shouldn’t have been deciding that for you.”

“Being called a gold-digger and a slag is not really the same as _The Daily Prophet_ saying your political stances are insane, Harry.” Ginny would know. None of _The Prophet_ ’s attempts to stir up shock and outrage over the donation to the Switchboard really bothered her. Ginny was sure she’d made the right, ethical choice, and _The Prophet_ only cemented that belief with their outrage. But accusations that she was just using Harry for his money and fame didn’t give her any comforting sense that she was sticking up for anyone. It was just a shitty thing to do and a shitty thing to be accused of, and every time _The Prophet_ said it, Ginny couldn’t quiet the fear that it was true.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Hermione already pointed that one out. Either way though, Ginny, I should have listened to you. Even if I didn’t agree, it wasn’t fair to just ignore how you felt about it.”

Ginny took a deep breath, letting Harry’s apology sink in. “Thanks, Harry,” she said. Maybe they could make things work, Ginny thought. It wasn’t enough, but it was something. And that particular sensitive spot had a more practical solution now too: she had an actual job. Harry was still far richer because of his inheritance, but she didn’t have to carefully count out every knut and sickle just to afford eating out for dinner. 

“The other thing is—and I tried to apologise for this before, but I realise I did a pretty shit job of it—I’m sorry about the way I acted about Greengrass.” Harry braced himself, but when Ginny didn’t snap, he continued apprehensively. “It’s stupid, but I felt like you’d… betrayed me or something.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Not just because you didn’t tell me, but because it felt like everyone else knew except me. It felt like you’d been lying on purpose.”

A surge of guilt clawed at Ginny’s insides. She _had_ kept it from him. She told herself it was because she didn’t think he’d believe her, but something else nagged at her gut. She didn’t feel the same way about Astoria as she did Rhianna or Luna or Neville or any of her friends. She couldn’t name it, but whatever it was, it felt wrong and shameful, a dirty secret too good to resist, too good to risk losing. Ginny felt an undeserved pang of anger toward Astoria. It wasn’t Astoria’s fault she’d lied to Harry, but Ginny wanted to blame anyone but herself. 

“The way I acted was shit,” Harry continued, “and you were probably right not to tell me, seeing as how I was stupid enough to think sending her to Azkaban for no reason was a good way of handling things. I was angry at you, and I tried to take it out on her instead of just doing a sensible thing like talking to you about it.”

Harry was hurting, and it was her fault. For all the stupid, horrible things he’d said and done, he hadn’t been wrong to be upset. She didn’t have a good reason for not telling Harry sooner. She’d waited a whole year, and she’d only said something for Astoria’s sake. Harry wasn’t entitled to know everything about her life, but Astoria wasn’t a minor detail in her life. She’d hung out with Astoria almost every day at school the last year. Leaving out Astoria was leaving out huge chunks of her life. 

“Also, just as an aside,” Harry said, “I am well aware that buying you something green as a way of apologising was beyond stupid. It made perfect sense to me at the time, but it was, well, incredibly stupid.” 

“It was pretty stupid,” Ginny said, and then she stood up tentatively. “Can I, er—” She pointed to the space beside Harry.

“Yeah.”

Ginny sat down next to him, unsure of what she was going to say or do. “I’m sorry, too, Harry.” His leg was inches from hers, and Ginny felt something turning inside her, but she didn’t know what exactly. She considered touching him, but she wasn’t sure what was driving the urge. Guilt? Desire? Familiarity? “I should have told you,” she said quietly.

Harry moved his hand to sit beside his leg, so very close to Ginny but not touching her. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m not… I’m not angry anymore, Ginny. I just miss you.”

Ginny slid her hand toward his and, just barely, let her fingers touch his. Her heartbeat felt louder and quicker, and her chest was tightening quickly. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she felt like maybe she was open to trying again. As bad as their fights were, when things were good with Harry, they were incredible. If they both wanted it, they could make it work.

Ginny looked up at him. “What do you want, Harry?” she asked quietly.

Harry looked back at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “I still love you, Ginny,” he said. “I want…” He looked down at their barely-touching hands for a moment. Then he looked back at her and, slowly, lifted his other hand to her cheek. “I want you, Ginny.”

He kissed her, soft at first, questioning and uncertain, but when Ginny didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, hand tangling in her hair. It felt good, and Ginny’s body responded eagerly, desperately to his touch, but she pulled away anyway. 

She didn’t want to hurt him, but lying wouldn’t do any good, so she said, so quietly she barely even heard herself, “I think I want to be friends.” She didn’t think she could put into words why, but something just felt off. He felt good, but the thought of being friends didn’t feel like an unbearable blow. Kissing him felt good because kissing in general felt good. Somehow, there wasn’t anything special about kissing Harry now, other than the familiarity of it. Her childhood illusion that he was the only one for her, slowly cracking through the two years of their on-again off-again relationship, had finally broken. 

“Okay,” Harry said. She could hear the hurt in his voice, but he didn’t sound surprised. “Friends.” 

“Friends.”

Then Harry laughed softly, a laugh that seemed to surprise him as much as it did Ginny. “You know, we’ve been together for years and never actually been together more than a couple months.”

Ginny smiled slightly. “Maybe we should see if we can be together as friends more than a couple months.”

“Do you want to go back to the party?”

“Think _The Daily Prophet_ has noticed we’re gone yet?”

Harry laughed. “We could walk out holding hands and give them a solid week of stories to run.”

Ginny laughed but shook her head. “I’d really rather make the headlines for quidditch, I think.” She took a deep breath and stood up. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.”


	27. The closest to heaven that I’ll ever be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: mention of substance use (again, magic), archaic gender norms/transphobia, internalised homophobia, homophobia, mention of alcohol (mis)use, mention of drunkenness, some somewhat sexually explicit conversation, mention of graves

Back outside, the party had gotten significantly rowdier—or maybe Ginny had just been too preoccupied to notice it before. The music was faster, the laughter was louder, and the dancing and dumb party games all seemed to have increased in intensity. It looked like someone had broken out some of the mood-altering potions and sweets, and there were more than a few couples snogging in various corners.

Ginny and Harry found Ron and Hermione chatting with Anthony Goldstein near the peripheral of the party. Ginny only half paid attention to the conversation, but the others were polite enough not to comment on her mental absence. 

At some point, Dean came over and insisted they needed to come see whatever George and Lee were up to. Ginny wasn’t really interested in whatever it was. She no longer worked at the shop, but she wasn’t exactly keen yet on seeing whatever new products they might be selling soon. 

“I’ll come find you in a bit,” Ron said with a nod to Hermione. “Feeling a bit peckish.” Harry, Dean, and Anthony had already started making their way over to George and Lee. 

“Do you ever stop eating?” Hermione sighed. She took one quick, worried glance at Ginny. 

“Course not,” Ron said. “Go on then, Hermione. They’ll need a Prefect to supervise, I reckon.” He grinned. 

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. “Save some for the other guests.” Then she turned and disappeared in the same direction the others had gone. 

“C’mon, Ginny, the sausage rolls are almost as good as Mum’s.” He headed off to the table full of food and Ginny followed, sure that he hadn’t actually passed up the chance to see one of their brother’s demonstrations just for sausage rolls. 

“ _Muffliato_ ,” Ron said as they sat down at a small table just beyond the busier parts of the party. Then, without another word, he began shovelling food into his mouth, as if he’d just cast a privacy charm to spare passerby the sounds of him eating. 

“No, we didn’t get back together,” Ginny said. She was sure that’s why Ron had made up an excuse to talk with her and added a privacy charm for good measure. 

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, he’s a prat.”

“Thought you two made up.”

Ron grunted. 

“Oh, thanks for clearing that up.” 

“Why’d you dump him?”

“He dumped me.”

“You know what I mean. I know he was planning on getting back with you tonight. He made me listen to his half-baked apology so much I think even I memorised it. ‘Blah blah, I was a git, let’s get back together.’ I’ve told him I don’t want to hear anything about your relationship, but he’s never listened.”

“Is that what you’ve been angry with him about? Talking about me?”

“I asked you first. Why’d you say no?”

Ginny shrugged. “I don’t really know. I think I still have feelings for him, but… I don’t know if I’m in love with him anymore. Or maybe I don’t know if he’s the same person I was in love with anymore. I certainly don’t know if I’m still the person he fell in love with. Maybe I never was. I don’t really know. Something just felt wrong about it.” Ginny shook her head. “Okay, your turn.”

Ron glanced around them uncertainly. “Dunno. He’s just a prat.”

“No fair. I gave you a real answer.”

Ron looked away moodily. Then he sighed loudly, threw back his drink, and looked at Ginny with sudden resolve. “Reckon maybe you’re right.”

“I’m right?”

Ron’s eyes darted around, all of his courage now wasted on his vague statement.

“Right about what, Ron?”

Ron stood up. “I’m way too sober for this.”

Ginny jumped up and blocked his path. “I am not dealing with your drunk arse. Suck it up.” She pushed him back into his seat and looked at him carefully. “Does this have something to do with you being gay then?”

Ron’s eyes went wide with horror and he looked around, but no one would have been able to hear them anyway. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Ginny sat back down and sighed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why Ron was angry with Harry anymore. She really wanted to be done fighting with Harry, and she was not in the mood to find out Harry’s homophobia wasn’t limited to Draco Malfoy. But she had a feeling she was the only person with any hope of getting Ron to talk about it, so she braced herself and said, “What happened? What am I right about?”

Ron crossed his arms and looked around. Slowly, he started to stutter half-formed sentences that led nowhere, never quite reaching anything coherent. “That it’s all right,” he eventually managed. 

“Being gay?”

Again, Ron looked horrified, the same sort of look people had over anyone saying Voldemort. Then, slowly, he nodded. “She’s decent at least.”

“Who’s decent?” Ginny was trying to be patient with Ron’s vague answers. She knew this had to be hard for him. It had taken him nineteen years and Ginny’s public support of gay people for him to tell her, probably the only person he’d ever told. She had to be patient. 

“Your friend. Gr—Astoria.”

“What?”

“She’s decent.”

Ginny bit back the sarcastic response she wanted to make about Ron’s previous opinions of Astoria. “What’s she got to do with—?”

“I’m just saying she’s… well, I was pretty jealous at first. I’m your brother. Why should she be the one who gets you sticking up for her, punching Harry, having a go at all us—all that just for her, and she’s even _happy_ or some shit somehow? Bloody unfair.”

“I didn’t—Astoria’s not—”

“But she’s decent, isn’t she? Always bugged me how she didn’t make a big show of being on our side once she wasn’t spying like you said. I always believed you, you know. Just couldn’t figure it out. If I’d done all that, I’d want to be sure everyone knew what side I was really on. I don’t really get it still, but I can tell she’s decent.”

“She’s more than decent.” Ginny caught her temper flaring and reminded herself she was being patient with Ron. Breathe.

“Yeah, I know.” Ron’s cheeks went pink, and he started stuttering again. It took him several tries to get out anything resembling an actual sentence. “Harry’s not like you,” he managed to say. 

“Did you tell him?”

“No,” Ron said quickly. “Merlin’s beard, no.” 

“So you got in a fight with Harry and somehow made up without ever talking about why you were upset?”

“No, I told him. I told him he’s been a prick about you and her. It’s like he thinks it’s bloody contagious.”

“What? Being gay? Fucking hell, Harry thinks she’s going to turn me gay somehow? I wish. Any woman would be better than dating him.” 

“Being friends with me sure hasn’t stopped him from being disgusting about my bloody sister.” Ron grunted irritably. “I told him he’s a shit boyfriend if you being friends with a lesbian is actually a threat, seeing as you’ve been in love with him forever. And in any case, it’s not like you haven’t already been friends for years. Hermione’s told him it’s h—ho—”

“Homophobic?”

Ron nodded, eyes wide. “To act like she’s a home wrecker just because she’s a l-lesbian.”

“She’s not a—”

“Hermione reckons he’s just insecure seeing as he’s not really all that bothered about Hermione being friends with her.”

Ginny snorted. “They’re not friends.”

“Yeah, they are. Maybe not close like you are, but Hermione says she’s brilliant, really gets politics and all that. That’s a high compliment from Hermione.”

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but then she thought better of it. 

“Anyway,” Ron said, “I… reckon Harry’s a bad influence on me. And me on him. I don’t want him to figure out about me, so I just…” 

“Act like a homophobic twat?”

“Yeah.” Ron looked down at his plate. “Figured I deserved to feel shit about myself, but doesn’t feel right knowing… well, it’s just different if it’s someone else. I should feel shit, but she shouldn’t. I don’t want to… I shouldn’t… I want to be better, Ginny.” Ron looked up and stared at her, a sad desperation in his eyes. 

“Me too, Ron.”

The silence that followed wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable either. As much as Ginny had tried over the past several weeks to turn into the ally her gay—no, LG… LG something—loved ones deserved, she could feel something quietly nagging at her. She hadn’t had any words for it, but Ron had said it for her. It was just fine _other_ people being gay. 

Ginny didn’t know if she was ready to face any more quietly nagging feelings right now, but she at least didn’t feel so alone. 

“There you are!” Dennis shrieked, bounding over. “Oh, sheesh, why’s it buzzing?” He scrunched up his nose and swatted at the air. “Go on, put it off. You know I’m still underage, and oh my _god_ , Ginny!” Dennis grabbed Ginny’s shoulders and jumped in place, grinning. He was always a bit hyperactive, but his usual energy seemed to be exploding off him now. Ginny was surprised there weren’t sparks shooting out of his ears.

Ron reversed the charm and frowned at Dennis. “Why are you wearing _girls’_ clothes?” he asked.

“Ron,” Ginny said with a pointed look that made Ron’s ears turn bright red.

Dennis stopped jumping and shaking, looked down at himself, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm, “Oh, are these _girls’_ clothes? Thanks, Ronald. I’ll update my notes on archaic gender norms.” Then, with a dramatic flick of his hair, he turned back to Ginny. “Rhianna came out to everyone.”

“What? How?” Ginny asked. Ginny had a sudden mental image of Rhianna running up on the stage to announce to everyone that she was gay. It seemed very un-Rhianna.

“Rhianna? Rhianna Hughes?” Ron asked. “What, as a l-l-lesbian?” He looked at Ginny, as if she was the one telling the story, not Dennis.

Dennis ignored him and shook Ginny’s shoulders. “We were playing truth or dare, which is basically just truth or truth when Hufflepuffs play—” Dennis shook his head, as if the truth part of truth or dare was just so much more passé than the dares, “—and Terry asked her who the first boy she kissed was, and Rhianna—I swear to god, this fucking legend just goes—” Dennis flipped his hand in a way Rhianna definitely never did, “‘Never have, never will. I’m gay, motherfuckers.’”

“She did not say ‘motherfuckers,’” Ginny said.

“Okay, she did not say that, but!” Dennis grabbed Ginny’s shoulders again and shook her, clearly not to the climax of his story. “After that, Hannah was like, ‘okay but who’s the first girl you kissed?’ And obviously all the Hufflepuffs look over at Astoria because they’ve all seen Astoria sneaking into Rhianna’s dorm a million times, but that’s so obviously not a thing.” Dennis threw his head back, clearly exhausted at the mere suggestion that there was anything like that at all between Astoria and Rhianna.

“Wait, why’s Astoria been sneaking into her dorm?” Ron asked. “She’s in Slytherin.”

“Oh, is she?” Dennis rolled his eyes. “Astoria has nightmares from being tormented by Dark wizards all her life, and Rhianna is her best friend. She goes and cries to Rhianna when she’s sad. I realise they don’t teach you wizards any maths, but, c’mon, that one is easy.” Dennis shook his head. “Anyway, as I was saying,” he said through gritted teeth, “everyone wanted to know who Rhianna’s kissed, because, you know, truth or truth, and Rhianna of course is boring and has never kissed anyone.”

“Neither have you,” Ginny reminded him.

“I am saving myself for marriage,” Dennis declared dramatically. “Now stop interrupting me because this is the really good part.” He shot a look at Ron who clearly did not know the cardinal rule of a good friendship with Dennis: never interrupt his stories with dumb questions. “So she says she’s never kissed anyone, right? And then, I swear on Astoria’s grandmother’s cat’s grave—her dad’s side because I don’t know if it’s okay to swear on cat’s graves in China, and I don’t want that woman coming to murder me. Anyway, I swear on this fucking cat’s grave, Susan just goes, ‘Well, that just won’t do,’ and goes right up to Rhianna and kisses her in front of everyone.” Dennis squealed and shook Ginny some more. “It was incredible. Like not just a little peck but full on snogging, Ginny, I swear.” 

Ginny smirked. “But did Rhianna kiss her back?” 

Dennis grinned wide. “Yes! Oh my god, Ginny, everyone was just sat there, totally stunned. It was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Anyway, ten years later, when they finally stopped snogging, Susan just goes, ‘My first kiss too. Thanks, Rhianna,’ all casual like she’d just tried out a new soup or something. Did you know Susan was a fucking legend? Because obviously some people are weird about it because they’re idiots, but it’s Susan’s party, so now it’s a pride party, and if anyone wants to be weird about it, they can leave.” 

“Should I go congratulate Rhianna?” 

Dennis laughed. “Yes, but no because she’s off with Susan and I’m not done.”

“There’s more?”

“It gets better. Okay. So after the century of snogging and Susan and Rhianna both being legends, Astoria runs off, and, you know, everyone is thinking she’s upset about Rhianna kissing someone, and please tell me _why_ no one understands what best friend means. Anyway, a minute later, Astoria comes back with the greatest badges ever. You remember what a royal shit she was with those Potter Stinks badges, right?”

“Astoria did those?” Ron said.

“She was like twelve,” Ginny said quickly. 

“Well, it was Malfoy’s idea,” Dennis said, “but she helped. The defensive charms that made it get worse every time Colin and I tried to fix them? Her idea, the royal shit. But anyway, not the point. Back to the story. Astoria comes back with these absolutely genius badges. You have to see to fully appreciate them, but you know how Astoria is great at everything, and it makes you want to strangle her?”

“Er, I don’t want to strangle Astoria,” Ginny said. 

“Ginny Weasley, no one spends more time trying to pin that poor child down and suck the air out of her lungs than you.”

“I do not—” 

“Yes, yes, you love Astoria, blah blah blah. Boring.” Dennis let out an exasperated groan. “The badges. Listen. Astoria comes back with these badges, one for Rhianna and one for Susan, and Rhianna’s says ‘Kiss me; I’m gay’ and then it flashes, ‘There’s a queue.’ And then Susan’s just says, ‘I kissed her first.’ They’re both rainbow, and if you press them, a bunch of butterflies literally come out of the badge, and Astoria will not tell me how the fuck she did that, so I am going to strangle her.”

“Rhianna isn’t actually wearing it, is she?”

“They both are. Susan thinks they’re brilliant. She’s got a cloud of butterflies following her around and _oh my god butterflies_!” Dennis returned to frantically shaking Ginny, eyes practically popping out of his skull. “It’s a _pun_ , Ginny! Butterflies like getting butterflies in your stomach, but it’s the badges! Christ, Astoria made a pun with magic. Oh my god. No, I need to go tell her she’s dumb and I love her. Ooh, speak of the devil!” He hopped, grinning over Ginny’s shoulder. “ASTORIA!” A moment later, Dennis groaned. “Hold on.” Then he vanished. 

“Did you know Rhianna’s, er…?” Ron asked Ginny awkwardly. 

“Yeah.”

“Is Dennis…?”

Ginny shrugged. “Haven’t asked. Not really my business.”

“You, er, have a lot of g-gay friends.”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Walk faster!” Dennis said. He’d returned now, staring over Ginny’s shoulder. 

“Ignore him, Astoria,” Parvati said. “I am far too fragile to survive you tripping. Wait! There’s a root. To your left.”

Ginny turned around. Astoria was carrying Parvati on her back, who seemed to be directing each step Astoria took. Astoria had a strip of black cloth tied over her eyes, which explained why Parvati was directing her. 

“Why are you both so weird?” Dennis asked when Astoria and Parvati finished making their way over. 

Ron laughed, and Dennis shot him a dark look. 

“I’ve just told Ginny the good news,” Dennis said. 

Astoria tensed and straightened up suddenly, and Parvati fell off her back. 

“Hey!” Parvati said. “Fragile here!” She gave Astoria’s shoulder a light shove. 

“It’s fine,” Dennis told Astoria. “Dean said that Hermione said that Harry said they broke up.”

Astoria pulled off her blindfold. “Er, okay?” she said. “I don’t—”

“Oh, shut up and be happy. Ginny likes you more than she likes riding Harry’s—”

“Okay,” Ron said loudly. “Think that’s enough of that.”

“Oh, right, I forgot the seventeenth century was here. Do get with the times, Ronald. Women are allowed to enjoy—”

“Right.” Ron stood up. “I’ll just be leaving if we’re going to be talking about my sister—”

“Oh, god, was it that easy to get rid of you this whole time? Hey, Ginny, what position did you and Harry—?”

“Dennis!” Parvati smacked the back of his head, but Ron bolted anyway, hands over his ears as he ran. 

“Can we not talk about my ex boyfriend?” Ginny said. “And especially not _that_?”

Astoria whispered something in Dennis’ ear. Dennis laughed. “That was gonna be my guess,” he said, looking at Ginny. 

“What?” Ginny asked, with an uncomfortable suspicion she wasn’t going to like the answer. 

“Figures you’d like being on top.”

Ginny was sure her face was going to melt off, and she stared at Astoria, mortified. “How would you—? Why would you—? That’s not—I’m not saying—okay, see—”

“Sorry,” Astoria said. Ginny was only slightly reassured to see her cheeks were also turning a bit pink. 

“But obviously it’s true,” Dennis said. “You’re redder than your hair.”

Ginny barely heard him, eyes on Astoria. “We don’t talk about that stuff,” Ginny said. 

Astoria grimaced. “Not when you’re sober,” she said.

“Wait, like that time after Easter?” Parvati said. “Merlin, she was _really_ drunk.” She gave Ginny a look that said Astoria had definitely told her about it—and it was probably horribly embarrassing. Ginny was sure she knew what after Easter meant, but she’d gotten too drunk to remember much. 

“Dennis, have you seen Rhianna?” Astoria asked loudly.

“Not since she went off with Susan ages ago,” Dennis said, “and shut up, I want to hear this story. I bet it’s good.”

“It’s boring. Ginny was drunk and moping about Harry after they’d broken up. End of story.” She caught Ginny’s eye, a barely perceptible message hidden in her face: _play along; you don’t want him to know_.

“I’ve seen Ginny drunk. There is always a good story.”

“I was just moping,” Ginny said, sure it was a lie. 

“Yeah,” Astoria said quickly. “See? Boring.”

Dennis crossed his arms and looked between the two of them. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I can tell you’re both lying, you know.”

“They’re not,” Parvati said. “Unfortunately, they’re both incredibly boring. Ginny just moped. Nothing happened.” _Something totally happened_ , Parvati seemed to really say. 

Dennis narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t figure out whether to believe Parvati. Then he sighed. “Okay, fine, if you haven’t got anything fun to tell me, I want to go dance. C’mon.”

Without even checking to see if they were coming, Dennis set off toward where most people were dancing. Parvati and Astoria followed, but Ginny caught Astoria’s arm. 

“How much did I embarrass myself that you won’t even tell Dennis?” Ginny asked her quietly. “I don’t, er, remember much. That was the night we broke into Slughorn’s office, right?”

“You were just drunk,” Astoria said. “It happens.”

“Please just tell me I did not actually make you listen to a detailed account of my bloody sex life or something.”

Astoria grimaced. “It was more like you tried to re-enact it.”

“Oh, fucking hell.” Ginny’s cheeks burned. It didn’t take much to imagine how gross that had to have been.

“Don’t think Dennis would ever let you live that down, that’s all.” Something about Astoria’s grimace was giving Ginny the sense that she should be especially glad to remember none of it. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s really fine.”

“Yeah, no, there’s open, and then there’s trying to get you to watch a bloody re-enactment. Merlin’s beard. I’m really sorry, Astoria.”

“You, er, weren’t making me watch.” Astoria’s face turned bright red.

“I wasn’t—?” Then, with horror, Ginny realised what Astoria was really saying. A fuzzy memory of drunkenly giggling and pushing Astoria down onto Slughorn’s desk flashed through Ginny’s mind. “Merlin’s fucking tits.” Ginny buried her face in her hands. “I am so, so sorry, Astoria. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Nothing happened. I thought you were just having a laugh, and then when I didn’t find it funny anymore, I told you I didn’t like it, and you stopped. It’s not a big deal. Just got some mental images I could do without, that’s all.”

“Sorry.” 

“So did you at least have some break-up sex? I’m told the sex is just _fantastic_.” Astoria grinned wickedly. 

“Fucking hell. Ugh, I deserved that. No. Not even close. We just talked. Honestly, he was just apologising a bunch. He did say he’s been a twat about you, by the way.”

Astoria shrugged. “I really don’t—”

“Yes, you do. You should.” Ginny tried to suck some courage into her lungs. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault he’s been such a twat.”

“He’s an adult.”

“He’s just jealous.” Saying it, Ginny realised just how true it was. Harry didn’t just feel betrayed; he felt _jealous_. And he was right to feel it. 

“What, of me? Sure, I’ll swap. I’ll take Boy Who Lived over having Death Eaters try to groom me since I was born.”

“Jealous of us.” Ginny’s stomach did a flip. She didn’t know exactly where this was going, but it suddenly felt like something inside her wanted to get out. Ginny felt like she needed to grab onto Astoria just to brace herself, but she held herself steady.

“Oh, is he really into forbidden friendships?” Astoria seemed oblivious to Ginny’s sudden need to get whatever this was out. “Yeah, I’ll swap on that too. I hate forbidden. I’ll gladly take not spending my life with everyone questioning if I’m even allowed to care about the people I care about.”

“No, I mean he’s jealous because…” Ginny took a deep breath. “Because I fancy you.”

Astoria froze, face maddeningly unreadable. Ginny was sure she was carefully considering every breath, every muscle, every blink, every word. The silence felt like an eternity.

“It would be great if you said something, Astoria.”

“Something.” 

“Oh, cool, thanks. I can see why I’ve been burying that one down deep. You’re awful.”

“Did you tell Harry?”

“What? No. I haven’t told anyone. I only told myself when the words left my mouth just now.” Ginny hadn’t even consciously considered it until she’d already said it, but it made sense. It made so much sense it felt painfully obvious, quietly simmering inside her until it had just jumped straight out of her mouth.

Astoria laughed but quickly stopped herself. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at—well, I am laughing at you, but only because it’s so hard for me to imagine what it’s like to have your brain and think like you. How do you only tell yourself something after you’ve said it?” She smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I just can’t imagine it. If I tried blurting things out like that, I’d probably tell you I was an ostrich from Peru and mean it. It takes me time to get to words that match reality.”

It wasn’t really an answer to Ginny’s unspoken question, but it was something—and it felt honest. At the very least, Astoria didn’t think Ginny was utterly mad, so Ginny let her steer the conversation away for now. “You’re not a Peruvian ostrich then?”

“I might have…” Astoria took a deep breath. “I might have been okay with it if you were sober. Back in Slughorn’s office. More than okay with it.”

“You might have—? Oh. _Oh_.” Ginny’s stomach did another flip as she caught on to what Astoria was actually saying. She inched herself closer to Astoria, heart rate climbing quickly. 

“And minus Rhianna being there, of course.” Astoria seemed to be trying to keep her voice even, eternally neutral, but Ginny heard the slight breathlessness anyway. 

“Rhianna’s not here now,” Ginny said softly. She wondered briefly if she dared, but she stopped wondering quickly and touched Astoria’s neck. Ginny could feel Astoria’s heart pounding as her finger tips grazed soft skin. 

“No, she’s not.” 

“And I’m sober. No alcohol at all for two whole weeks for quidditch.”

“Also true, but—” Astoria took a deep breath and smiled slightly, “—I think there’s supposed to be some steps in between this and you trying to get your hand down my pants like you did back in—”

“Merlin’s saggy fucking tits, I’m never drinking again.” Ginny dropped her hand. “I am _so_ sorry, Astoria.”

Astoria just shrugged. “If I’d needed an apology, I would have told you, and like I said, you stopped as soon as I told you to. It’s fine. Anyway, Dennis is probably two seconds away from bounding back over here to ask if we’ve got a permanent sticking charm on our shoes that’s preventing us from moving, and I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like explaining.” Astoria held out her hand. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Ginny took a deep breath and gave Astoria her hand.


	28. There’s an answer if you reach into your soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: “gay” used as a noun (not self-referentially), mental health crisis, homophobia, internalised homophobia, references to Ron’s battle with the locket horcrux, self-hate, implied risk of self-harm, references to past trauma, mention of police violence

Ginny had danced with Astoria before, but it was nothing like dancing with Astoria now. They were in a world all their own, all smiles and sparkling eyes, floating somewhere far above the rest of the world. Ginny would never understand how she had missed this before, how she had been so oblivious to the way Astoria made her insides flutter and her knees feel like jelly. 

Astoria was just so _good_ , and maybe that’s what had held Ginny back, too afraid to want someone so beyond comprehension. But somehow, Astoria wanted her too, and the thought kept making all the air leave Ginny’s lungs. Even when Dennis kept pulling Astoria away to belt out the words to some muggle song they both knew, Astoria’s eyes never left Ginny. 

Ginny wanted to kiss her. Fuck what anyone else thought. Ginny would gladly let the whole world know that Astoria Greengrass was _hers_. Astoria was hers, and anyone who had a problem with Astoria could arrange a meeting with Ginny’s worst curses. Susan Bones had kissed Rhianna in front of everyone, so why couldn’t Ginny kiss Astoria? 

But before Ginny’s lips could find Astoria’s, Astoria kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand. “Not here,” Astoria said in Ginny’s ear. When she pulled back she was smiling, eyes still lit up, and Ginny decided she could bear to wait a bit longer. 

So they danced and laughed and twirled through the night sky. Ginny held onto Astoria, soaking in every bit of her she could, desperate for more but sure she would never get enough. 

“I’m gonna tell him.” 

Ginny let go of Astoria and turned around. Ron was standing awkwardly behind them, jaw clenched, face set, hands curled into fists, trying very hard to look fearless—though he was failing miserably. 

After how many times Dennis had stolen Astoria away tonight, Ginny was not exactly thrilled at the additional interruption. But she bit back her annoyance and said, “Tell who what?”

“Harry. I’m gonna tell him… tell him…” Ginny could easily guess the rest of his sentence.

“What, now?”

“Now.” Ron sounded like he’d much rather say “never.” 

“You’ve got this, Ron,” Astoria said gently. 

Ron nodded. “Come with me?” Ron asked Ginny.

 _Don’t be annoyed. Don’t be annoyed._ “Yeah,” Ginny said. She glanced at Astoria.

“Both of you.”

“Sure,” Astoria said, “whatever you need.” 

Ron gulped. “Okay.” He nodded, and Ginny had the impression he was trying to psyche himself up with the motion. “He’s just talking to Hermione right now.”

“Do you want me to pull her aside for a minute so you can talk to Harry alone?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be brilliant.”

Astoria put her hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “Hey, you’re Ronald fucking Weasley. You stabbed a fucking sword straight through Voldemort’s genocidal soul. You’ve got all the guts a man could need. You’ve got this.” Merlin, Astoria wasn’t even talking to her, and Ginny was going to melt into the ground.

Ron smiled slightly and nodded. “Right. Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” 

“Lead the way,” Ginny said.

Ron nodded again and started off toward wherever Harry was.

Before Astoria could follow him, Ginny caught her around the waist and leaned in toward her ear. “That was really fucking sexy,” she whispered. She could feel Astoria’s breath catch. 

“We should probably…” Astoria breathed.

“Yeah.” Ginny took her hand, a current rushing through her body at the simple contact, and they followed after Ron.

“Hey,” Ron grunted to Harry and Hermione. 

“Oh, there you are,” Hermione said. “I was just telling Harry you had probably run into someone. Ready for tomorrow, Astoria?”

“What’s tomorrow?” Harry asked. His eyes flashed between Ginny and Astoria and their hands. Astoria pulled her hand away.

“Hogwarts,” Astoria said. Neither her face nor her voice betrayed any kind of embarrassment, despite pulling her hand away from Ginny’s. At least she wasn’t apologising. “And no, not at all.”

“Oh.” He sounded happy. “Yeah, N.E.W.T.s… I never took them. Good, er, luck.” He looked back at Ginny for a moment but quickly looked away.

“Thanks.” Astoria turned back to Hermione. “I actually wanted to ask you something about that, Hermione. Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, sure,” Hermione said. 

As the two of them stepped away, Astoria clapped Ron’s shoulder and gave him a thumbs up. “You got this,” she mouthed over Harry’s shoulder.

“I thought she was in your year,” Harry said to Ginny. 

“Nope,” Ginny said. “One more year.” She glanced at Ron with a renewed sense of urgency. Why on earth he suddenly wanted to tell Harry, Ginny didn’t know, but the sooner he did it, the sooner she could grab Astoria and—well, Ginny wasn’t sure what, but she wasn’t convinced she cared about seeing anyone else tonight. Astoria was moving tomorrow; why were they wasting time with other people?

“She’s… smart,” Harry said. Ginny could hear how hard he was straining to say something positive about Astoria, and it only made her even more relieved they weren’t dating anymore. “Hermione says she’s smart, so I’m sure she’ll…” 

“I’ll pass along your inspiring words, Harry.” 

“Sorry.” It wasn’t really an apology though but an accusation: _I’m trying to be nice._

“Listen,” Ron said suddenly. “Harry.” He looked utterly mortified.

“Yeah?” Harry said. He gave Ginny a confused look, as if she might explain why her brother suddenly looked like a full-sized Kneazle not only had his tongue but had crawled down his throat and was holding it hostage somewhere in his ribcage. “What’s going on, Ron?”

“You’re a prat.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry looked at Ginny, once again in search of answers she certainly didn’t have.

“Ron,” Ginny said.

Ron glanced at her and nodded. He looked back at Harry, took a deep breath, and said, “I quit.”

“ _What?_ ” Harry and Ginny said in unison. This was not at all the confession Ginny had prepared for. 

“I hate it,” Ron said. “I hate busting down some poor bloke’s door because his neighbour made up some story about Dark artefacts just because they think he’s a bit funny.”

“Are you drunk?” Harry asked, bewilderment quickly turning to anger. 

“No. I mean it. I quit. It’s fucked up, Harry.” 

Harry gave Ginny a furious look, and Ginny found herself quickly tiring of Harry’s insistence that she be spokesperson for her brother. “You and Greengrass got him worked up over nothing, did you?”

“You leave them both out of this!” Ron seemed to have found his courage finally, spurred on by a sort of righteous anger, and he stepped closer to Harry. “I signed up to round up the last of the Death Eaters. I didn’t sign up to be the new Inquisitorial—”

“Fine!” Harry stepped closer, glaring up at Ron as he shouted. “Run home to Mummy again, Ron. Go on then, storm out and leave me to do the fucking work, like always.”

“Harry!” Ginny said. 

“ _Muffliato_ ,” Hermione said. She and Astoria had abandoned their conversation and stepped in between Harry and Ron. “What on earth are you two fighting about now?” 

“He’s quitting!” Harry shrieked. 

“I’m _objecting_ ,” Ron spat. 

“Think we should let the poor bastards be? Leave ‘em to murder muggles in peace? Going to be a pacifist now?”

“Harry, stop it,” Hermione said.

“The whole Auror Office is fucked up,” Ron said. “You said it yourself!”

“Let it go, Ron,” Astoria said. She pushed his shoulder gently, trying to steer him away from the fight. 

Ron glanced at her uncertainly.

“Trust me,” Astoria said.

Ron’s shoulders dropped, and he stepped back.

“Brilliant plan, Greengrass,” Harry spat. “Dismantle the whole Auror Office from the inside. Real clever. Does Ginny know, or are you just using her too?”

Ginny reached for her wand, but Astoria was faster. Her fingers closed around Ginny’s arm before Ginny could charge forward, and she caught Ginny’s wand with her other hand. But Astoria hadn’t accounted for Ron, who shoved past them and stuck his own wand to Harry’s neck, towering over him menacingly.

“Leave — her — alone!” Ron spat.

Harry swatted Ron’s wand away. “Real impressive, Ron. Going to give him extra points for his stunning performance, Hermione?”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Hermione cried. She got back between both of them, trying to push them away from each other. Astoria grabbed Ron, and Ginny grabbed Harry.

“You leave her out of this too!” Ron shouted.

“He doesn’t like you, Greengrass,” Harry said, voice like ice. “He’s just trying to collect some gay friends so his girlfriend won’t notice how much he hates gays.”

“I’m gay, you fucking prick!” 

Everyone froze. Drops of Ron’s spit landed on Ginny’s (and likely Harry’s) face, as if they were the final punctuation on his furious statement.

“What?” Harry said.

Ron took one nervous step backward, slipping out of Astoria’s grip, and then bolted. A moment later, he disapparated mid-stride.

“Ginny, go,” Astoria said quickly. “Ron needs you.” She tossed Ginny’s wand back to her. 

Ginny cast a worried glance at Harry and Hermione. Harry looked bewildered and confused, and Hermione’s eyes were glistening with a coming onslaught of tears. “But—”

“I’ve got this. Find your brother.” 

The fierce look in Astoria’s eyes was more than Ginny could possibly resist, so she threw her arms around Astoria’s neck and leaned in to kiss her. But Astoria quickly turned her face away, and Ginny’s lips landed on her cheek. “Sorry,” Ginny said. 

“Not now. Just find Ron before he does something stupid.” Astoria pulled Ginny’s hands off her and squeezed them briefly. She didn’t look upset, just focused on Ron and worried. 

Ginny nodded and then apparated away in search of her brother.

He wasn’t in his flat. He wasn’t at the Burrow. She tried Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, all kinds of places they’d gone as kids. Nothing. 

“Harry,” Ginny panted, back in Susan’s back garden. 

She’d found him sitting with Hermione and Astoria. He was awkwardly patting Hermione’s back while she sobbed into Astoria’s shoulder. Huh. Maybe they were friends. 

“Do you remember where you were when Ron left?” Ginny said. She leaned forward to rest her hands on her knees. She’d made way too many jumps tonight. 

“What?” Harry said.

“When you were hunting horcruxes. It’s all I can think of. I’ve already checked every other place.”

“Er…”

“Harry, please.”

Harry looked at Hermione briefly and then stood up. Without so much as a word, he put a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. Then, she felt the familiar sensation of being pressed through a tube as her body raced across the country for what felt like the millionth time tonight. She fell to her knees on the riverbank.

“Ron!” she called. She pulled herself back up and lit her wand. “RON!”

Harry gave her a concerned look, but she shook him off and started marching through the woods in search of her brother, shouting his name over and over.

“So, er…” Harry said awkwardly as he followed her. “Are you… are you gay now? You and Greengrass—”

Ginny stopped suddenly at the mention of Astoria and turned to Harry. “ _The sword_.” Astoria had mentioned the sword to Ron.

“What?”

Ginny grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “Go. Where you found the sword.”

“Er, did you hear—”

“ _Go_.”

Harry sighed, and a moment later, Harry caught Ginny as they landed in the Forest of Dean. Ginny allowed herself only a single breath before pulling herself up again in search of her brother, wand lit.

“Ron!” Ginny shrieked as soon as she saw him. Exhausted, she stumbled over to him, sitting beneath a sycamore tree, staring transfixed at a large, flat rock in front of him. She dropped down beside him and stared at the rock. “Is that where—?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Ron murmured. The place where he’d stabbed a sword through Voldemort’s soul, destroying the horcrux that had tormented him for months. 

Harry sat down on Ron’s other side and stared at the rock too. Ginny could hear his slow, nervous breathing. “Why’d the locket—?” Harry started to ask.

“Because I don’t want to be…” Ron said quietly. “Like this.”

“You’re really gay?”

“You and Hermione… you get to have that. You get that with someone. But me… I do love her, you know. I like being with her. Just because I don’t…” Ron took a deep breath. “She’s the best girl there is. If I’ve gotta be with a girl, I want it to be her. And I don’t want to be alone.” 

Ginny put her arm over Ron’s shoulder and leaned against him. “You don’t have to be alone, Ron,” she said.

“I can’t. It’s… it’s all right for other people, but I don’t want… I just want to be straight. I want a normal life. I can’t do it. Mum—”

“Mum will be just fine.” Ginny was surprised to find she believed it too. 

Ron shook his head and stood up. He stepped up to the edge of a nearby pool and stared down into the water.

Harry got up and followed him. The two of them stood beside each other, staring into the pool for what felt like an eternity. Ginny had the sense that this wasn’t something she could fully understand or help with, so she stayed sitting, trying to regain some of her strength. Harry and Ron had both talked about it a couple times—the night Ron had returned, saved Harry’s life, gotten the sword, and destroyed the locket. But Ginny would never fully understand everything that happened or what it meant to them.

“Have you always known?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

Silence again. Ginny willed Harry to say something actually supportive, not just questions.

“There’s no sword,” Ron said.

Again, it was silence. Ginny wished she could see their faces better. She wished Harry would just tell Ron it didn’t change anything. Just a few simple words, that’s all he had to do, but he wasn’t saying them.

Ginny looked back at the rock, the place where Ron had destroyed the thing that had tormented him so. It occurred to her for the first time that that was something she and her brother had in common: they’d both been tormented by one of Riddle’s horcruxes. It had only been a few months, and he’d never been possessed, but Ginny felt just a little less alone. 

And, with a twisting in her gut, she realised why he was staring in the pool. That’s where he’d found the sword. He wanted to destroy the torment inside himself again. Ginny hoped it was the self-hatred strangling him that he was aiming for and not himself. She hoped he could tell the dark apart from the light. And she hoped she could do the same.

“Don’t think this is one for a sword, mate,” Harry said. Then, _finally_ , he did something actually decent: he put his hand on Ron’s shoulder.

Ron looked at Harry. 

Ginny couldn’t make out their faces, but she could see both of them breathing slowly. She decided the fact that Harry was here at all had to be a good sign. Ron was his best friend; he’d stumble his way into being an ally somehow.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. 

Ron nodded.

“Whatever makes you happy, mate.”

Ron sniffed, and then Harry threw his arms around him. 

When they let go, Harry said, “I think, er, Greengrass was pretty worried about you, mate.”

Ron wiped at his cheeks. “Right. Yeah,” he said. “Bit dramatic, I guess, leaving like that.”

Ginny stood up and stepped toward them hesitantly. Harry put one hand on Ginny’s and Ron’s shoulders, and then they were yanked back to Susan’s. Harry had thankfully been considerate enough not to apparate to right where they’d left Hermione and Astoria.

“I’ll, er, get Greengrass,” Harry said. He looked uncertainly at Ron. “No offense, mate, but…”

“Hermione probably doesn’t want to see me,” Ron finished for him.

“She’ll come ‘round. It’s just…”

“Go on.” Ron waved him away, and Harry left.

A minute later, Astoria came up and immediately gave Ron a hug. “You’re as mad as your sister,” she said. She let go and added, “Are you really quitting your job?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. He took a deep breath. “I think I want to go home.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Ron nodded. “Just exhausted.”

“Send for me if you need anything,” Ginny said. 

“Thanks, Ginny.”

Ginny gave him a hug too, and then he was gone. Ginny took only a single breath before she wrapped her arms around Astoria and held on tight. It had been a long, long night.

“I think I should probably go home soon too,” Astoria said quietly. “I really should try to finish that essay tonight.”

Ginny let go. “I have quidditch,” she said.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I mean I can’t come to Kings’ Cross tomorrow. I—do you want company?”

Astoria’s face was maddeningly unreadable. Thinking, but Ginny couldn’t figure out what. Was Astoria as upset as Ginny was that she’d waited until their final hours together to figure this all out? “As long as that company promises not to be distracting,” Astoria said finally.

“I’ll do my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're so not ready for next week.


	29. Tomorrow comes to take me away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter content warning: some interpersonal violence (no gore), chest binding, dysphoria, poor understanding of consent (nothing actually *happens*, but, you know, the mention might be triggering for some)

> Astoria’s room, the Owens’ house. 

Ginny knew she was just coming to sit in Astoria’s room while Astoria did her school work, but her heart was pounding anyway. She still hadn’t actually kissed Astoria yet. Astoria had just said “not here” and “not now” when she’d given up waiting for the right moment and tried. _Is it now yet?_ Ginny wanted to ask. 

Instead, she sat down on Astoria’s bed and watched Astoria. Astoria took off her waistcoat, undid the top buttons on her shirt, and pointed her wand at her own chest. She muttered something, and then her chest, which had been as flat as a man’s all evening, suddenly had boobs again. 

“Is that what Rhianna was worrying about?” Ginny asked curiously.

Astoria glanced at her. “Er, yeah.” Astoria stared at the wall and coughed.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Astoria did a couple stretches, mostly ignoring Ginny. Then, without a word, she sat down at her desk and started taking out her books.

“Why—?” Ginny started to ask, but she stopped as soon as Astoria looked at her.

“I’m a Peruvian ostrich, Ginny.” Astoria needed time to find words. Ginny could be okay with that. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Being an ostrich?” Astoria grinned.

“You know what I mean.”

Astoria shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it comfortable, but it’s not painful.” 

Ginny got the sense that Astoria didn’t want to talk about it, so she decided to drop it. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as Astoria got to work on her essay. 

“I’m just not ready to have a heart to heart about it, Ginny,” Astoria said quietly after awhile. “Sometimes, it’s just what feels right. Sometimes everything about my body feels wrong, and I don’t mean like I feel ugly. I mean like it’s someone else’s body. I don’t know how I got here or why, and I can never decide what to do about it. Maybe I _am_ an ostrich, somehow inhabiting the body of a teenage witch.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t dislike this body exactly. It works. Sometimes, it even feels like mine. I don’t think I’d be happier as a man. I mean, sexism is shit and all, but I think the things that feel wrong about this body would still feel just as wrong. Or it’d just be a different set of wrong feelings.” Astoria shook her head. “I guess I just like feeling just a little bit less like my body is deciding who I have to be. My body answers to me, and not the other way around. And if I’m an ostrich, dammit, I’ll be a bloody ostrich.”

Ginny got the sense that, of all the things Astoria kept carefully guarded behind all her many walls, what she had just shared was one of the most secret. Even if Astoria didn’t seem settled on the right words for it, and even if Ginny didn’t fully understand whatever it was Astoria felt, Ginny knew it didn’t change anything about how she felt about Astoria. So, after a moment, Ginny said, “I think I like the ostrich.”

Astoria looked at her, and, slowly, a mischievous smile took over her face. “I’m pretty sure I told you not to distract me, Ginny.”

“Oh, am I distracting you?” 

“Yeah, you’re being cute. That’s distracting.”

Ginny’s heart raced. “What are you going to do about it?”

Astoria laughed. “Ignore you, I guess.” She turned back to her essay and started writing, but the corners of her lips were still turned up.

“Pft, you can’t ignore me.” 

Astoria just shook her head and flipped the pages of one of her books.

Ginny got up and grabbed her book.

“Hey!” Astoria said. “I was reading that!”

Ginny cleared space, hopped on Astoria’s desk, and put the book in her lap. “I’ll read for you.”

“Oh, yes, that’s definitely an efficient use of time.” Astoria reached for her book, but Ginny lifted it above her head. 

“Tell me what you’re looking for.”

Astoria sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m writing about flesh-eating flora of the Americas. I need—”

“Flesh-eating, you say?” Ginny cocked an eyebrow and made a biting motion with her mouth that she hoped Astoria would find sexy. 

Astoria laughed. “Merlin, Ginny, please don’t make my herbology essay into a euphemism. I won’t be able to keep a straight face when I have to hand it in to Sprout.”

“I hear Sprout is very supportive of all kinds of faces, not just straight ones.”

“ _Ginny_.”

“Okay, okay.” She looked down at the book. 

Astoria grabbed it, pointed to a passage, and had her read it aloud while Astoria copied it down to use in her essay. They settled into a rhythm, with Astoria flipping through her books and having Ginny read to her as she wrote. It was nice. It was also maddening.

Ginny tried not to distract Astoria, as much as she wanted Astoria’s piercing focus all on her. But self-control wasn’t Ginny’s strong suit, and she inched herself closer to Astoria and brushed her toes along Astoria’s leg. Ginny liked the way Astoria’s breath caught slightly at the contact and the way Astoria kept herself focused on her essay anyway. 

Ginny kept inching closer whenever she could. She knew Astoria noticed. And better still, she knew she was getting to Astoria because Astoria started asking Ginny to repeat things more and more. Maybe Ginny shouldn’t be distracting Astoria from her essay—they both needed to sleep eventually—but Astoria was moving back to Scotland tomorrow. Ginny would survive one night of little sleep, and Astoria had already survived years of very little sleep. 

“I’m going to come to all your matches,” Ginny said. “Slytherin, the Academy, everything. And I can come up for Hogsmeade weekends. I’ll help you with your essays.”

“Like you are now?” Astoria said without looking up.

“Yeah. I think I’m really helping a lot here.” Ginny leaned forward and ran a hand through Astoria’s hair. 

“Not distracting at all.” Astoria grabbed the book Ginny was holding and flipped through it.

“Motivation for you to finish.” 

“I’ve got ancient runes next.”

“Nope, you’ve got unhealthy study habits. Next up is a break. Healer’s orders.”

“Oh, are you a Healer now?”

“Shah would agree with me.”

Astoria laughed. “Yes, the woman who has been on my arse all summer and giving me even more studying to do, that’s the one. She’d definitely tell me to kick back and take it easy.”

“Fine, girlfriend’s orders.”

Astoria froze, and her eyes flashed to Ginny’s face. Ginny couldn’t tell if she looked panicked or why. 

“Fine. Friend-who-is-a-girl-and-who-you-are-not-currently-dating's orders.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m sober. No one is around to have an opinion. I want you, you weirdo ostrich. So either you’re going to be reasonable and just take a break like a healthy human being in between assignments, or you’ll leave me no choice but to _actually_ distract you.”

Astoria laughed. “Is that supposed to be a threat? You can’t distract me.”

“Fine.” Ginny slipped off the desk and into Astoria’s lap. She pressed her lips into the base of Astoria’s neck and savoured the gasp Astoria made and the way her body arched into Ginny’s.

“Okay,” Astoria said, voice high. “Let me finish.”

Ginny leaned back to look at her face better. “And then you’ll take a break?”

“And then I’m all yours.”

“Hm, define finish.”

“Just my essay. I don’t have Runes until Friday. I’ll find time for it later.”

Ginny pretended to think about it for a moment. Then she grinned and said, “Deal.” She got off Astoria, threw herself onto Astoria’s bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. Astoria’s voice in her head saying, _I’m all yours_ , over and over again wasn’t helping at all.

When Astoria finished her essay, she carefully put all of her school things into her trunk. Then she went to her closet, took out her wand, and started directing her clothes into neatly folded piles in her trunk.

Ginny rolled on her side to face Astoria and cleared her throat loudly.

“Need some water?” Astoria asked without looking. Ginny could see from the look on her face though that she knew exactly why Ginny had cleared her throat.

“I seem to recall you being all mine once you finished your essay,” Ginny said.

“I’m just packing for tomorrow.” Astoria’s cheeks were pink.

“Not what we agreed to. I thought you were an ostrich of your word, Astoria.”

“It’ll only take a minute.” Her voice was high, and her face was only getting redder.

“You’re nervous.”

Astoria took a deep breath, plastered on an insultingly fake smile, and looked at Ginny. “Of course. Just the single most important year of my academic career.”

“If you don’t want to—”

“Yes, fine, okay, I find it absolutely terrifying that Ginny Weasley is sitting in my bed waiting for me to come over and kiss her and calling herself my girlfriend. This is so not my area of expertise, and there are just so many ways this can go wrong and one or both of us gets hurt and—”

“ _Astoria_.”

Astoria took another deep breath. “Sorry.” 

Ginny got up and got in between Astoria and the trunk. She put her hands on Astoria’s shoulders and looked at her seriously. “You’re a mess.”

“You think?”

“Relax.” Ginny kissed her cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

Astoria relaxed slightly, and her eyes flickered to Ginny’s lips. “Okay.” She was definitely looking at Ginny’s lips. 

Ginny moved one hand to Astoria’s cheek. Astoria closed her eyes, and Ginny leaned in, closing her own eyes too as she tilted her face up to meet Astoria’s. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure Astoria could hear it. 

Then Astoria’s bedroom door flung open, and Astoria jumped and fell on her arse, looking like she’d just walked through a ghost. 

“There you are,” Rhianna said to Astoria. “Dennis said—oh, hi, Ginny.” Rhianna looked quickly between Astoria and Ginny, both of whom were turning bright red, and she smiled. “Oh god, finally.” 

“How’s your wife?” Astoria asked as she stood back up. Her voice was much harsher than Ginny expected. “Bit surprised you still have a face.”

Rhianna turned bright red too. “We were just talking.” One of the butterflies from the badge Astoria had made landed on Rhianna’s nose.

“Oh, cool. Sounds fun.” Astoria was definitely upset. 

“Okay, well, Dennis said you were upset, so I was just making sure you were okay. Sorry to interrupt.” She looked at Ginny and grinned. 

“Why on earth would I be upset? I’ve had just the best night.” Her sarcastic tone cut somewhere deep in Ginny’s cut. 

Rhianna looked at Ginny for help, but Ginny hadn’t a clue why Astoria seemed so upset all of a sudden. “Did something happen?” She brushed the butterfly out of her face. 

Astoria just laughed. 

“Er, okay.”

“You can go back to Susan now. I’m fine. See you at Christmas maybe.”

Rhianna flinched, but then she stepped closer to Astoria. “I’m going with you to Kings’ Cross tomorrow.” 

“Sure you’re not too busy with—”

“Are you _jealous_?” 

“I’m not jealous. I’m just fed up with you.”

“Astoria,” Ginny said gently. She put her hand on Astoria’s arm, but Astoria jerked away. 

“Don’t touch me,” Astoria growled. 

Rhianna’s eyes flashed quickly between Astoria and Ginny, and her nostrils flared angrily. “You are. You’re jealous because I’m not fucking neurotic like you and can actually kiss—”

There was a loud bang, and Rhianna flew out the room and crashed into the hallway wall. Without thinking, Ginny tackled Astoria and wrestled her wand away. Then she pinned Astoria’s arms down and sat on her stomach. Astoria turned her head away, hair magically flying to cover her face, but she didn’t fight Ginny. She was breathing hard and shaking. 

Ginny heard Rhianna get up and stumble back into the room. “What the fuck is your—?” she started to say, but Ginny silenced her before she could wind Astoria up anymore. 

“Astoria,” Ginny said. Astoria wasn’t fighting her at all, so Ginny reached for her face and gently brushed her hair away. Astoria’s face was wet with tears. “It’s okay, Astoria.” 

Astoria only cried harder. 

Rhianna stumbled over and sat down beside them. Ginny decided she looked apologetic enough and reversed the silencing charm. 

“Sorry,” Rhianna muttered. “I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel.”

“Give me my wand,” Astoria choked, not really looking at either of them. 

Ginny hesitated. 

“Please.”

Ginny gave Astoria her wand and let Astoria push her off. Astoria wiped at her cheeks and then pulled Rhianna up and sat her on the edge of the bed. She avoided eye contact with Rhianna, but she checked every bit of her for injury and healed it all. 

When Astoria finished, she took a deep breath, looked at Rhianna, and said, “Don’t make a big deal about me not spending enough time with you if you’re just going to spend the whole night sucking face while I get stuck dealing with Potter, okay?”

“Harry? Why were you—?”

Astoria just shook her head. “Not the point.”

“Astoria, I’m sorry. I did want to spend time with you. I’ve been wanting to spend time with you all summer, but you’re always working.”

“Yeah, well, I’m basically an orphan, so—”

“Oh, shut up. You’ve got my family, I know the Creeveys keep giving you money, and I have a feeling the Weasleys are about ready to adopt you too. Hell, Shah and now Averford both seem to think you’re their kid, not just their employee. The only reason you have to work constantly is because you’re too stubborn to let anyone else help you.”

“My parents want your whole family dead because you’ve been sheltering me. It’s bad enough I still live here. I’m not taking your money too.”

“Plenty of people want us dead, and we’re doing just fine.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

Rhianna sighed. “I’m sorry I was busy tonight. I’d say we can hang out now, but I think you’ve got a much better option than me right now.” She glanced at Ginny and grinned again. 

“Ginny was just helping me finish my essay,” Astoria said stiffly.

“Is that why your books are all put away?”

“I just finished right before you barged in. You know, most people knock.”

“Yes, very rude of me. Guess I’ll just have to leave then.” Rhianna got up and started to leave. 

“I want to spend time with you too, you know.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Astoria. You can tell me all about your night after Ginny’s left for quidditch.”

“She’s not—”

“Just take the couch if she’s an idiot, Ginny. You’re my guest.”

“I’m taking Ginny home.”

“Oh, good, you can redo the last time you stayed over minus the broken nose. Ginny, don’t try to stand on an air mattress. They’re very wobbly.”

“I noticed,” Ginny said. Great, cool, so Astoria had totally told Rhianna about all that.

“Have fun, you two.” Then Rhianna, giggling as she went, slipped out the door and shut it before Astoria could argue any further. 

Astoria flung herself down on her bed and groaned, staring up at the ceiling. Ginny came over and sat down beside her. 

“She’s had a perfectly good night,” Astoria told the ceiling, “and I had to be a prick and ruin it.”

“I think she’s okay, Astoria,” Ginny said. 

“Good for her. Susan is about a billion times better than Pansy. I should have just congratulated her and left it at that. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“She’s your best friend, and she ditched you to go snog some random girl. It sucks.”

“Dennis wasn’t upset.”

“Rhianna isn’t Dennis’ best friend, and she wasn’t insistent on dragging him out tonight. I bet he’d be ready to murder you if you’d dragged him off somewhere he didn’t want to go and then ditched him for literally any reason, no matter how good.”

“Okay, whatever.” Astoria sat up. “You’re tired. You’ve got quidditch in the morning. I should take you home.”

“I like being here with you.”

“Your house is closer to Wales. It’ll be an easier jump in the morning from there.”

“Will you stay over then?”

Astoria sighed. “Ginny, I am so not ready to have sex with anyone.”

“Oh, Merlin, Astoria, I’m not asking you to have sex with me. I don’t even know how sex works when it’s, er…” Ginny shook her head. Not the point she was trying to make. “I just wanted to see you in the morning before I have to go.”

“And then I can awkwardly explain to your mum why I’m there.”

“Or I stay here, and you don’t have to explain. I’m not going to splinch myself just apparating to Wales.”

“But—”

“Okay, whatever, Astoria. I give up. I think you’re great, and I want to spend as much time with you as you’ll let me. I don’t care where. I don’t care about quidditch tomorrow. I’d stay up until sunrise with you and live with being exhausted tomorrow. Quidditch isn’t going anywhere, but you are.”

Astoria sighed. “You’re exhausted, Ginny. I’m taking you home.”

Ginny tried not to show how hurt and disappointed she felt. “Okay.” Astoria was just trying to be responsible and considerate. She probably wanted to stay with Ginny just as much as Ginny wanted to stay with her. There were quidditch matches and Hogsmeade weekends and plenty of other excuses to see each other sooner than Christmas. Ginny would figure it out, so she gave in and let Astoria take her home.

Astoria walked Ginny up to the front door of the Burrow and stopped. They turned to face each other. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Ginny asked. “Just for tea?”

“I should really let you sleep,” Astoria said. 

“I’ll probably be up all night thinking about you.” Ginny put her hand on Astoria’s neck lightly.

“I can bring you some sleeping potion.” It almost sounded like an attempt at a joke, though Astoria sounded more nervous than funny.

“I like thinking about you.”

Astoria’s pulse was picking up speed fast. She put her hands nervously on Ginny’s waist. “I don’t know if I—”

Ginny cut off her nervous babble with a kiss below Astoria’s ear. “Relax, Astoria.” 

Astoria took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Ginny kissed her again, inching ever so slightly toward her mouth. She trailed her hands on Astoria, willing her panicked mind to shut up and let Astoria enjoy the moment. If this was the last time they’d see each other until Ginny could find an excuse to come to Hogwarts, Ginny was determined to say goodbye on a good note. 

Ginny kept kissing Astoria, slowly moving her lips across Astoria’s cheek. She could feel Astoria’s heart pound beneath her fingers and hear Astoria’s sharp breaths with each kiss. 

“Ginny,” Astoria said softly. One of her hands grazed Ginny’s cheek and slipped into her hair. 

“Yeah?” Ginny said, brushing her lips on Astoria’s skin. 

“What are you doing?”

Ginny savoured the feeling of Astoria’s cheek muscles flexing beneath her lips as she spoke. “Kissing you.” Ginny moved her lips along Astoria’s cheek, finding the corner of her lips at last. 

“Don’t.”

Ginny froze, the corner of Astoria’s bottom lip between Ginny’s. 

“I can’t.”

Briefly, Ginny considered kissing her anyway. Astoria wanted her. She had to. Astoria wanted this, and she was just being stupid. Ginny should stop her from being stupid. Fuck what Astoria thought she wanted; Ginny would kiss her, and Astoria would realise she liked it. 

But Astoria pressed Ginny’s head into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ginny.” She wrapped her other arm around Ginny and hugged her tight. 

Ginny felt a wave of red hot rage start in the pit of her stomach and race through her whole body. Stupid fucking Astoria, toying with her, teasing her, making Ginny think this was anything. It was all just a game to her. 

“Fuck off!” Ginny spat as her rage exploded out of her. She ripped Astoria’s arms off her and shoved her hard. As she did, a current of burning hot, uncontrolled magic blasted through Ginny’s fingertips, sending Astoria flying several feet through the air. “I never want to see you again!” 

Then, before Astoria could react, before her dark eyes could ask Ginny a million pained questions, Ginny ran into the house and slammed the door. She locked it with every spell she could think of, every spell another step further away. Fuck Astoria and her stupid games, stringing Ginny along just like she’d once strung Death Eaters along. Ginny had been a fool to think she could possibly want her.

“Ginny,” Astoria pleaded through the door. She knocked softly, but Ginny ignored her. 

For good measure, Ginny started piling furniture up against the door, cursing Astoria’s name beneath her breath as she did. “Just fucking go, Astoria!” Ginny shouted to the door. Fuck everything about Astoria. 

The knocking stopped, and then, a moment later, there was a crack. Ginny froze, and her burning anger was swiftly replaced by an icy panic. She started sending furniture crashing out of her way. It wasn’t moving fast enough. Nothing was moving fast enough. 

“ _Reducto!_ ” Ginny blew a hole through the mess of furniture and the door and scrambled through. “Astoria!” she called, running around, stumbling, searching fruitlessly. One flash of selfish anger, and she’d driven Astoria away. “Astoria!” Ginny tripped, and she sank down into the dirt. Astoria was leaving tomorrow. “Astoria,” she whispered to the ground, already wet with her tears and regret. Astoria was gone. 

Ginny woke up alone in her bed, alarm screaming all her faults. Vaguely, she remembered her father carrying her up the stairs as she screamed. She barely noticed the destroyed door as she left in the morning, too numb to care. She’d give her parents money to have it and whatever else she’d destroyed fixed. Or at least whatever her wand had destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm evil. You trusted me, and look what I've done! I'm sorry. It had to be this way. But Astoria and Ginny *will* get together, I promise! And I'd like to think that, in the end, it'll be worth the journey that getting there takes. So I hope you're ready for some more adventures in love, friendship, and growing up as we head into book two!
> 
> This book has been a long journey, and I'm grateful to those of you who have been reading, leaving kudos, commenting, listening while I read on Twitch, and being sounding boards while I worked out all the details along the way. Your support means the world to me, and this story wouldn't be here without all of you! Thank you, and I'm looking forward to embarking on the next leg of this journey (book two!) with all of you.
> 
> The next chapter will, as always, go up on Monday, but I've posted a placeholder chapter so you can hit subscribe on book two now if that's how you like to get updates. :) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804901/chapters/68071843)
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave a comment letting me know what a cruel person I am for this ending. Your tears fuel me!*
> 
> (*to keep writing and editing so we can one day finally get to that truly happy ending and cry snotty tears of joy together)


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